Desire Me Not
by linalove
Summary: She looked at him, sprawled across the floor as he was with his hand tight around the glass. She almost wept. He turned and looked at her, his eyes dark, sharp, accusing. "I told you," he hissed, "I told you not to care. But you never do as you're told, do you? Fine. Be the martyr. I have long accepted that I am the demon." John Wilmot/Elizabeth Malet. Rating changed to M.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Welcome to my new story. Unlike my other fics this is not an Earl/OC fic. This is the story of the Earl with his wife, Elizabeth Malet. I simply love this pairing and since there are few stories about them, I decided to give it a shot. If you read, then please let me know. Feedback is my only payment.**

**So, here is the prologue to set the story. I hope you like it.**

**Suggestions, ideas and general comments are more than welcome! In fact, they are my bread and butter! ;o)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine.**

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**Desire Me Not**

**Chapter 1~Prelude**

'_**I'm not saying that love always takes you to heaven. Your life can become a nightmare. But that said, it is worth taking the risk.'**_

_**~Paulo Coelho**_

_Horses' hooves woke her up. Was it sleep? That long limbo of pain and nightmares…Could that be called sleep? She didn't know. What she did know was that she was glad she was awake. Her eyes did not feel heavy. Her limbs did not feel numb. Her skin did not ache. Her mouth was not dry. Her body was not dressed in bleak white nightgowns soiled by the evidence of her sickness. No. Her body was wrapped in heavy blue silk and waves of lace. _

_She ran her hands over her corseted waist, but she felt no pressure, not even an ounce of breathlessness. It was as if her body felt no pain, no irritation. The silk felt heavy and smooth against her legs and she was barefoot. She frowned at that. Why was she barefoot? It was inappropriate to be barefoot. She was no longer fifteen._

_She breathed in deeply and her nostrils were immediately filled with the scent of humid soil and leaves. The smell was familiar. Curiously, she gazed outside of the carriage window. The coach was riding among the wildness of the country. The only colors that flashed right before of her eyes were the green and brown. She smiled and raised a hand to push at a curl that had fallen into her face._

"_Don't."_

_The voice startled her and she turned to face the sound. She then noticed how long the carriage was. She could hardly see the other side. The seat was obscured by darkness and as hard as she tried she could not locate the source of the voice._

"_Pardon?" She murmured and when no one answered she reached up to push the lock behind her ear._

"_I said, don't." _

_The command was louder, firmer and she froze. She knew the timbre of that voice. She recognized that voice. It was a voice she hadn't heard in so long. She had mourned, she had cried over the loss of that voice. She had been hurt and praised, in equal measure, by that voice. _

_Her hand remained suspended next to her cheek as her eyes searched frantically for the face that belonged to that voice. She needed to see that face._

"_Lower your hand." The voice murmured again and she felt her throat closing up. Obediently, she obliged and then there was a deep sigh that made her skin prickle._

"_Good girl. Let it flirt with your skin. Your hair was always lovely when you were not forcing it back with countless pins."_

_Elizabeth swallowed thickly as a light veil of mist fluttered around the carriage cabin. She was speechless; she was certain she was dreaming._

"_This is not a dream." He murmured again and the fog licked at the skin of her bare feet as he spoke. She shivered._

"_Is it not?" She questioned._

_He clicked his tongue, "You always had trouble believing my words." His voice was heavy with reproof, "The dreams are over; for good."_

_Elizabeth frowned, "Are you who I think you are?" She whispered and the mist laved at her feet again._

"_It depends on who you want me to be. Would it ease your pain if I were to remain just a voice? A specter of your hell? Or maybe a ghost of your past? You are ruling me in this life too, Elizabeth. Are you satisfied?" He sounded angry._

"_Satisfied?" She echoed as her eyes narrowed in a vain effort to see him._

"_That you have dragged me here with you…" His tone was filled with reproach._

"_You dragged me here…If I am not mistaken." She noticed that the carriage was barely rocking with the motion. She frowned._

"_Where are we going?" She asked and for a moment the mist invaded her personal space, making it impossible for her to see, impossible for her to breathe. She shut her eyes as a cold gust of air slapped her face, freezing her skin._

"_I do not know yet." He replied and he sounded much closer. The scent of wine and sandalwood filled her nostrils and despite her always cool reserve she felt her eyes stinging with unshed tears._

"_You must know if you intend on haunting me even in my death." She hissed as she opened her eyes. There was a flash of movement and then there he was. Angering him always did the trick._

_His pale face appeared through the mist and he slapped his hands on either side of her, his palms pressing hard against the cushion of the seat._

_Elizabeth stood still as he loomed over her. Her green eyes widened as she stared at him. Long curls were framing his face, his lips were twisted in that familiar scowl that just compelled her to lean over and make it disappear with a kiss, and his eyes were glimmering and dark; so very dark that she shivered._

"_This is not your death, my Lady." He told her through gritted teeth, "This is your rebirth. Your wrath can send me away as fast as your need brought me back. Name your desire. Speak the words and I shall be gone. I will let you travel alone to your destination. That way I won't have to wait for your decision." His unfathomable dark gaze scorched her skin and it was the first sign of discomfort she felt since she had opened her eyes._

"_What decision am I to make at the end of this?" She asked him softly, barely keeping her hands by her sides._

_He stared at her with that same snarl and then slowly tilted his head to the side._

"_Your questions have always brought me to my knees." His hands slipped from the squab and travelled down, parallel to her sides, until he dropped to his knees in front of her, "I daresay you enjoy it." He breathed wickedly as his palms slid firmly over her knees. He parted them and slipped in between._

_The lacy trimming of his baggy shirt tickled her skin as he pushed his hands underneath her silky skirts, and when he leaned forward and pressed his mouth to her corseted abdomen she sighed tremulously. _

"_I do believe you shall recognize the grounds…" His voice was distracted and she watched with fascination as he laid his head on her lap, his cheek resting atop the silk folds of her dress._

"_They were your heaven…and my personal hell." His voice was scratchy, but his hair was soft as she brushed it with her hand._

_She wasn't sure if she should touch him. She had always been hesitant to offer him affection. She had been rejected countless times for her attempts._

_His hand shot up and clasped her hand, squeezing it tightly and she gasped as she looked at it. It was pale, ink stained, but scarred with the remnants of his illness. She eyed her own hands. They were spotless._

_Her mouth parted when he dragged her hand to his cheek. Her arm seemed to pulsate with life as her fingers touched his skin. Unlike his hand, his cheek was smooth and soft; familiar. She smiled and his eyes spotted the smile. He didn't seem pleased, but at the same time he didn't seem angry. Elizabeth was confused, but as she gazed outside she noticed the gates of Adderbury manor. She stiffened._

"_No." she shook her head, "No. You must take me back." Her voice was frantic, "John!"_

_He leaned back and eyed her coolly, his eyes narrowed, "Why?"_

"_I don't want to go in there."_

"_You won't. Just look." He looked outside the window and as the horses kept pulling the carriage forward the scenery changed. The gates of her home in Somerset greeted her and she blinked as a stray tear slid down her cheek._

"_What…what is happening?" She whispered and he came to sit beside her on the seat._

"_You are going to watch a play." He murmured into her ear as his hands reached for her. They traced her neck, her shoulders, her sides, her waist and then her hips. He turned her to face the window as the carriage came to an abrupt halt._

"_Play? We are not at a theatre." She whispered and the presence behind her back, _his_ presence, was burning her, scorching her with warmth that she hadn't felt since the first years of their marriage._

"_Oh but we are…We are in the greatest production of our lives." His breath fell hot and moist on her neck and ear and she shivered as his hands came to rest just below her breasts, "Our own play." He murmured and his lips captured her bejeweled earlobe. His tongue laved at it and when the gates of her home got closer he released it with a small audible pop. His chin found her shoulder and suddenly the carriage door slammed open. The front door of the manor seemed closer than before and he reached out. In his hand he held the key. He unlocked the door and then they were both pulled in. Elizabeth's vision blurred, but the hands around her didn't let go._

_As she got lost inside the darkness of her own home she heard him speaking to her in rushed, jagged sentences._

"_Don't let go. Ever."_

_Before she had the time to answer the hands around her disappeared and everything went black. She was home._

_**Then Old Age, and experience, hand in hand,**_

_**Lead him to death, and make him understand,**_

_**After a search so painful, and so long,**_

_**That all his life he has been in the wrong…**_

…_**And 'tis this very reason I despise.**_

_**This supernatural gift, that makes a Myte-,**_

_**Think he's the image of the Infinite:**_

_**Comparing his short life, void of all rest,**_

_**To the Eternal, and the ever blest.**_

_**This busie, puzzling, stirrer up of doubt,**_

_**That frames deep mysteries, then finds them out…**_

_**~Earl Of Rochester, A Satire Against Mankind**_

**End of chapter 1**

**Author's note: Thank you for reading. As you can see I played with the afterlife here a bit…We shall see how that turns out in the end…**

**So, liked it? Hated it? Please let me know and I will update soon! I am actually thrilled to write this story. It's been in my head for…years!**

**So, comments?**

**Xxx Lina ;o)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Welcome, welcome! A huge thank you to:**** Makrciana, ****dionne dance, TinkerbellxO, ElleWillBite, Nellie, nuckythompson, MissMisc3, XantheXV, PGAEmma and CharlieCats. Thank you all for reviewing the first chapter. It means a lot!**

**This is the first actual chapter and I hope things do not seem to slow. I will try not to bore you! Haha. More action in the next chapter…Things will escalate slowly…;o)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine or any of its characters.**

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**Chapter 2**

_**'Ah women. They make the highs higher and the lows more frequent.'**_

_**~Friendrich Nietzsche**_

_Enmore Manor, Somerset, England 1665_

The pin was secured. Her hair was all pushed away from her face. The light brown locks were severely pulled to the back of her head with one, absolutely clear intention; to show the pale skin of her cheeks and the elegance of her features. She looked up into the mirror as the maid stepped back from her. The green eyes that stared back at her were dull, reserved and frightened. She shook her head quickly and then stood up. Her voluminous skirts rustled noisily and she smoothed a hand over her waist and dress to make sure her clothing was all in proper order.

She turned to face the maid who smiled at her and held up her travelling cloak. Elizabeth offered her a smile in return and stepped towards her. She turned her back and the shorter woman draped the heavy, warm cloak over her elegant shoulders. She pulled the material over her pale collarbones and sighed.

"Ah, miss! You forgot your jewelry!" the maid rushed towards her jewelry box with the clear intention of opening it, but Elizabeth held a hand up to stop her.

"No need, Charlotte. I shan't wear any." She said in a quiet voice and the maid blinked.

"But, madam, your mother won't like it…"

"It's alright. It's my choice to wear it or not." She picked up her gloves and started putting them on.

"Then you should take it with you to London! Surely, you will need it for Court visits." Charlotte moved to place the box in the large chest, but Elizabeth stopped her.

"No need. You know I don't wear it anyway."

Charlotte gasped, "Your grandfather won't like it, madam! I'll be in trouble if he asks us about it-…"

"I promise you won't." Elizabeth smiled and looked at her travelling chest, "I am ready. They may take this downstairs." She motioned towards it and Charlotte smirked.

"Miss, I think you're trying to rebel." She said with a giggle.

Elizabeth frowned, "Hardly. I just don't see the reason to make this trip any more dreadful than it already is. Come." She turned on her heel and slowly walked out of her chamber.

Charlotte shook her head and followed her, motioning for the servant outside to carry the young mistress's luggage.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Elizabeth Hawley gazed at her daughter with soft eyes while slowly shaking her head.

"Your father won't like it." She commented lightly and Elizabeth turned to look at her mother with a furrowed brow.

"What did I do?"

"What kind of appearance is this? Where are your earrings? You wear them even in your sleep and now you choose to take them off?" Lady Hawley reached out to push away the hood of her daughter's cloak.

"My ear felt sensitive this morning…I thought it best to remove them." Elizabeth replied smoothly.

"We have been invited to court this evening. There is a feast. You must look presentable. Where are your earrings, Lizzie?"

The young woman looked outside of the carriage, "In my chamber, mother." She murmured and her mother clicked her tongue.

"Then they will remain there. God knows when we'll be able to come back." Lady Hawley leaned back in her seat, "Why are you so cross?"

"Why is it so important to wear trinkets? I am too young to be courted yet." Elizabeth shook her head.

"We've talked about this. Your first public appearance must be dazzling." Lady Hawley smiled with pride.

"Why is it so important, mother? My fame precedes me anyway. In any case, it will be a waste of time. No one will pay attention to the newcomers from Enmore village."

"You'd be surprised. The King has spoken with great appreciation about our family. Our name's famous in the North."

Elizabeth snorted quietly, "You mean our fortunes are…Does he have anyone in mind for me then?"

Her mother gave a small shrug, "I do not know. We shall have to wait and see. We shall take supper in Whitehall and then we shall head for Hampton palace. Your father and grandfather are already waiting for us in Whitehall. The King has prepared the best quarters for us."

Elizabeth gazed at her lap, "We shall need a map then…It'll be impossible to move around that palace."

Lady Hawley laughed loudly, "The Queen resides there while the King is currently staying at Hampton. I wonder why…" She covered her mouth with her hand, her light grey eyes sparkling.

Elizabeth looked up at her, "Probably to be with his mistresses. Ladies of questionable morals, I imagine." She muttered and her mother gasped.

"Lizzie! Don't say anything of the sort at Court. Heavens, child." Her mother scolded, but the twitch of her mouth betrayed her amusement.

Elizabeth smiled a little, "I won't. That doesn't mean I won't stare though." She said with slightly flushed cheeks

Her mother shook her head, "Just be amiable and well behaved. There's nothing more alluring than a woman who knows when to speak and when to be silent." She gently patted her daughter's hand and then picked up her book.

Elizabeth sighed.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_Hampton Court Palace_

"My, my. Lady Elizabeth. How you have grown." The King's voice was firm, but not that clear. The music was loud and the conversations taking place in the Great Hall were creating a horrible cacophony that rang horribly in Elizabeth's ears.

"Your Majesty. Thank you for inviting me." She bowed low and she could feel her father's gaze on her, waiting for her to make a mistake.

Her hands were shaking lightly because everyone was staring at her, wondering who she was to be talking with the King. They were most probably talking about her looks and obvious wealthy position in the country.

"Allow me to introduce Ms. Moll Davis." The King waved his hand at the woman next to him. Her bright blue eyes were sparkling and her red painted lips were twisted in a sly smirk. Her brown hair had specks of red in it and her dark red gown was provocatively designed to compliment her curves.

"Madam." Lady Hawley bowed her head, mimicking her husband and Elizabeth followed.

"Ms. Davis is a wonderful singer. She shall grace us with her melodious voice later this evening, Next to her is the Earl of Dorset, Sir Richard Sackville." The King introduced the nobleman and Elizabeth looked up. The seat right next to him was empty, but she did spot a golden handled walking stick resting against the chair.

"Please, be seated. I hope we shall see you dance later on, Ms. Malet." The King nodded at Elizabeth who quickly bowed her head.

"Of course, your Majesty."

Lady Hawley placed her hand on her daughter's back and slowly led her to the buffet.

"See? That was easy." She whispered as her father reached for a goblet of wine. Elizabeth watched him intently until he turned and noticed her.

"What is it, child?" He asked her with a furrowed brow and Elizabeth quickly shook her head, accepting a glass of mead.

"Look at all the dancing couples. Isn't it charming, Lizzie?" Her mother said and Elizabeth turned towards the dance floor.

"It seems to me that only the pretty ladies get to dance." She whispered as her eyes fell on a few chubby young ladies by the far side of the hall, "A bit unfair, I fear…" She trailed off as she noticed the glum faces of the women.

"You women will never understand." Her father spoke up.

"John." Lady Hawley warned quietly and he grimaced.

"Wealth and beauty makes a woman strong. You should thank God you possess both." He almost spat and Elizabeth looked away.

"What you think as a blessing, I think it as purgatory." She said in a firm, but quiet voice.

"Elizabeth…" Her mother sighed, but Elizabeth smiled.

"Oh, look. A gentleman is looking at me." She motioned towards the King's table, "Let's see who he will choose to dance with. Me or the unfortunate ladies by the corner." Her eyes fell on the man in question, but he did not move from his seat. His eyes, dark and unfathomable, were fixated on her, but he made no move to approach her. In his hand, he held a glass of dark red wine and he was twirling his walking stick with the other one.

Elizabeth almost frowned and when the man cocked his head to the side and smirked slightly at her she averted her gaze. She ignored the fact that he had a handsome smile.

Before she had the chance to think on it too much, another gentleman approached and asked her to dance. She accepted just because she needed to get away from her parents and as he twirled her around the dance floor she kept a neutral expression, casually smiling and laughing at his poor attempts to amuse her with jokes. His poor attempts at complimenting her were also rather disappointing; especially when he, like most, focused on her social position.

Her eyes caught the King's eye, but he was conversing with a gentleman. Elizabeth frowned when she noticed that it was the same man who had been staring at her a few moments ago.

Blinking, she allowed the man to twirl her around once more and then she excused herself.

She hadn't taken a few steps away from the dance floor when another gentleman caught her hand. Feeling the scorching, warning glare her father sent her way, she let the man lead her back to the sea of couples. She danced adequately, but absentmindedly and when her feet started to swell in her narrow shoes, she realized that she should stop.

She returned to her mother and refused another dancing invitation from a young adolescent.

"The poor man. You should be dancing. That's why we are here." Her mother commented with a frown, but Elizabeth drank her mead in silence. She could feel how flushed her skin was and her tight corset was compressing her bones. A dull ache was thrumming in her ribcage and she quickly put the glass down to gently press on the area.

"I wonder who is that gentleman the King is speaking to…I have not see him here before." Mr. Malet murmured and Elizabeth looked at the man. He was now standing, but leaning towards the King's ear. His head was turned towards their direction and she watched as he nodded his head and then turned on his heel. He walked away, disappearing among the sea of people and Elizabeth had the sudden urge to flee as well.

She shot a glance towards her parents who were still talking among themselves and she took a nervous step back. She noticed that her footman was standing several feet away, looking ready to faint from exhaustion and combined heat, and she smiled a bit.

With slow movements, she turned around and headed for the large side doors that led to the gardens.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

As soon as she arrived in front of the large maze she stopped running. Her breath was coming out in harsh pants and she placed a hand against her ribcage. She closed her mouth and took deep breaths from her nose, trying to calm her breathing. The tight confines of her clothes were suffocating her, compressing on her ribcage and she closed her eyes to take a moment to compose herself. She strained her ears, trying to listen for any followers, but she had long escaped her footman.

She opened her eyes and gazed up at the darkening sky. She hated social gatherings and she hated life at Court. It was an endless parade of women, and especially men, with nothing better to do than pretending to like others. Her young age had not allowed her to become familiar with the ways of the world, but as she had grown up she was forced to attend fancy balls and suppers. She was forced to be amiable and tolerant to possible suitors. The thought angered her. She wanted to be seen for herself not for her money. So far, she had been complimented for both and that was not reassuring.

Loud voices in the distance alerted her and she whirled around. Squinting, she stepped backwards and further into the maze. Without much thought, she turned around again and started walking through the labyrinth. She had no idea where she was going, but she didn't care. She had to take some clean, refreshing air. The Great Hall had reeked of wine and the pungent aroma of combined sweat had caused her stomach to turn. Dancing for the King's pleasure was a vigorous and strenuous activity after all.

As she kept walking, her feet started complaining and she suddenly stopped. Without much ado, she leaned down and removed her shoes, breathing a sigh of great relief as she stepped barefoot onto the ground. The wetness of the grass brought comfort to her aching feet and she smiled at the small, simple joy. Her mother would be angry at the sight of her soiled stockings, but she didn't care. In fact, she laughed a bit, the sound echoing in the silence.

With a more confident bounce in her pace, she started walking again, unconsciously getting lost in the complicated paths. A rustle from her right caused her to stop. There was movement and a moment later a young female servant appeared, her feet moving in haste. Elizabeth was shocked as she watched the white capped woman walking away, her blush obvious on her plump, pale cheeks. She had seen the woman at the Great Hall. She had been assisting with the wine. A small chuckle escaped her as she moved forward, but it was smothered when a walking stick appeared out of nowhere, blocking her movement.

She wanted to gasp, or worse squeal, but she did neither. She simply came to an abrupt halt and turned to look at the hand that was connected to the walking stick. She followed the dark brown, obviously expensive, but not the most expensive, coat sleeve and her eyes locked with the man's dark brown gaze. He was tall, but not exceedingly so and he had long brown hair that reached his shoulders. His skin was pale, his features relaxed, but at the same time calculating. What gave his amusement away was the small smirk he had upon his nicely shaped lips. Elizabeth's eyes widened minutely. She had seen him at the ball; he had been the one staring at her, but she didn't know who he was. What she did know however, was that he had been meddling with the servant girl; in the gardens of Hampton Palace. Elizabeth was not surprised.

"Would you lower your cane, sir? I need to move along." She said politely. She then noticed the long goblet that was clasped in his long fingers. His knuckles were strangely stained with black spots. She cocked an eyebrow when he walked a bit closer, almost indecently so.

"Forgive me, madam, but my hand does not seem to obey my brain. For how can I free such a jewel?" He murmured as his eyes swept her face.

Elizabeth almost felt flattered at the comment, but then his dark eyes moved away from her facial features and dropped lower. His dark orbs roamed her figure with blatant appraisal and she felt her cheeks flushing with indignation.

"I was told that people at court were jovial and with a high inclination towards spirits, but you, sir, are just plain rude." She spoke in a rush and then his eyes snapped up to her face.

He dropped his cane and bowed low at her without breaking the eye contact.

"I shall apologize if I must, but forgive me if I am reluctant to withdraw my compliment." He told her with a grin.

Elizabeth was very aware of his lingering gaze upon the shoes in her hands. She realized what she must have looked like with her footwear off. With a small huff, she leaned down and started putting them on, holding in her wince of discomfort as her toes were squashed by the narrow shoes.

"Why did you do that? This ground has never been stepped upon by lovelier feet." His voice was laced with amusement and she shot him a sharp glance.

"I still maintain my initial thought. You are plain rude."

"How have you arrived at such a conclusion?" He cocked a single eyebrow.

"You are talking to me, conversing as if you know of me, when you have not graced me with the honor of your name." Elizabeth told him sharply and he smirked.

"Then we are both at fault…" His eyes swept over her form again and she stiffened, suddenly realizing that it was dark and that part of the garden was deserted. She was alone with that man.

"You have been less than chivalrous, so you shall allow me to hold onto my privilege of anonymity." She informed him before she stepped by him. His cane appeared again and blocked her way once more. This time she gasped a little. She turned her head slightly to the side and looked at his features.

"Very well." He nodded, "I shall name you then. Perhaps then you will allow me to keep you here a moment longer." He started circling her and she gulped.

"I beg your pardon?" She whispered and he chuckled, half jubilantly, half darkly.

"Mary…No, you are not a Mary…Katherine…No." he pursed his lips and then smiled, "Elizabeth." He informed her with a wicked glimmer and she scoffed.

"You, sir, are pulling my leg. That makes your crime even greater. You block my way, you stare at me as if I am a courtesan and now you pretend of having no knowledge of my name while you do!"

"Dear lady, I was merely just lucky." He smirked at her anger and she shook her head.

"Your luck stops here, sir." She slapped his arm away and started walking, faster than it was appropriate for a lady.

"Ms. Malet."

She froze at the sound of her name and narrowed her eyes as he stepped closer to her from behind. The sound of his walking stick rang in her ears as he approached. Her eyes widened when she realized that only a few held canes like his. How had she missed that before?

"You mustn't judge me so quickly…I have just discovered a lady all by herself in the gardens…at such a late hour. What am I to think of your integrity?" He asked her smoothly and she rolled her eyes.

"What makes you think I care of your opinion of me?" she asked him with a faint blush of embarrassment.

He laughed softly, "Indeed."

Elizabeth started moving forward again, but she was startled when she felt his hand on a loose curly lock of her hair. She narrowed her eyes and moved her head out of his reach. She was rewarded with another chuckle.

"If you would be so kind as to turn around, I'd grace you with my name, madam." He breathed and his breath disturbed the fine hair at the nape of her neck.

With a sigh she turned. Her eyes locked with his. He smiled.

"I'm John Wilmot, my Lady." He murmured and she blinked before she took a step back.

"The Earl of Rochester." She whispered and gave a small bow of her head, her eyes not leaving his sly ones.

"Your fame precedes you, my Lord." Elizabeth stated and his mouth twitched with amusement.

"Fame?"

"Verses, wit…women." She murmured and his smirk deepened.

"Rumors." He almost purred.

"I think not if the blushing maid was of any proof. Goodnight, sir." She inclined her head.

"Ms. Malet, where are you going?" He called and she paused.

"Back to the palace."

"The palace is that way, my Lady." He pointed with his walking stick towards her right and she flushed. She had been heading left.

"Indeed."

"Shall I escort you? There are many rakes lurking around." He approached as he took a sip of his drink.

She smiled and turned to look at him, "I have already met with one, my Lord." She said as she paused.

He smiled and stepped towards her again, his eyes intense, "Madam, you cannot imagine how much worse I can be." He murmured as he tilted his head to the side, "Where do you reside?" He asked her quickly.

Elizabeth was startled by his forwardness, "Why?"

"I wish to call upon you. Where do you reside?" He was more than just insistent.

"Whitehall." She replied, "And you may call upon me, but I will decide if I shall accept you or not. _My Lord_." She bowed her head in farewell.

He grinned crookedly at her reply, but he didn't answer her. As he watched her go, he chuckled quietly to himself.

"By the time I am done with you, you shall be begging for my return…_Lady_ _Elizabeth_." He murmured as he finished his drink in one go and then followed silently behind her.

His eyes did not leave her until she disappeared into the safety of her own carriage.

**End of chapter 2**

**Author's note: thank you for reading. So, liked it? Hated it? Please, let me know. I need your thoughts!**

***Info: Moll Davis was a notorious courtesan, singer, actress and of course one of the King's mistresses. She was known for her vulgarity and sharp wit.**

**Whitehall was the largest palace in Europe at the time and Charles II died there from a stroke. He resided there for most of his time, but visited Hampton from time to time.**

**Enmore was Elizabeth's home in Somerset. She used to live there even after her marriage with Wilmot, but she spent a lot of time in his house at Adderbury with her mother, the Earl's mother and the Earl's nieces.**

**Also, this story takes place before the Great Plague and the Great Fire of London, but the incidents will be mentioned in later chapters…;o)**

**That's all I think…Yeah.**

**So, comments?**

**Until next time!**

**Xxx Lina ;o)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Welcome back! I want to thank: XantheXV, Newland Archer, Makrciana, dionne dance, TinkerbellxO, PGAEmma and Charliecats. Thank you for the support!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine.**

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**Chapter 3**

_**Along these hallowed walks it was**_

_**That I beheld Corinna pass.**_

_**Whoever had been by to see**_

_**The proud disdain she cast on me**_

_**Through charming eyes, he would have swore**_

_**She dropped from heaven that very hour,**_

_**Forsaking the divine abode**_

_**In scorn of some despairing god**_

_**But mark what creatures women are;**_

_**How infinitely vile, when fair!**_

_**~Lord John Wilmot, A Rumble in St. James's Park**_

"How do you find life at court, Ms. Malet?" Ms Davis asked and Elizabeth paused briefly.

"Very nice, madam…" she replied with a tiny frown, "Why do you ask though?"

Moll Davis flicked her hair behind her shoulder and smiled a little, "It seems to me that you hardly get any amusement here…You barely leave your room for a stroll in the gardens." She said and Elizabeth straightened her posture and let her gaze drop upon the dog Ms. Davis had been dragging beside her.

"I am not comfortable with the people here…" she murmured and took a quick around the Whitehall gardens, "And the palace confuses me, madam…I fear getting lost." She pointed out with a polite smile and Ms. Davis snorted in a quite unladylike manner.

Elizabeth stopped walking.

"Something amusing?" she asked with a frown and the other woman turned to face her while tugging on the dog's leash a little too hard.

"I beg your pardon, Ms. Malet, but rumor has it that you are trying to avoid a certain Earl." The woman said and Elizabeth blinked calmly.

"I do not understand." She murmured as she started walking again, "I am avoiding no one. How could I possibly dare to avoid someone above me, madam? Surely you've been misled."

Ms. Davis pursed her lips, "Very well…How many times has the Earl of Rochester called upon you and you refused to meet him?"

Elizabeth turned abruptly to face her, "I accept those who call upon me at an appropriate hour." she replied tersely, "I have great respect for his Lordship, but my parents don't see it fit for him to be so insistent."

"And do you?"

"Excuse me?" Elizabeth did not appreciate the woman's tone, "Please speak freely."

"I would think that his disposition would cause a problem to your family…I suppose that is not the reason for your rejection though. You're far too educated to act like that-…"

"Ms. Davis, I do not appreciate gossip. Whatever you have to say, say it now or speak no more."

Moll stopped walking and smiled gently, "The King won't like it if he finds out that you've been spurning his favorite Earl, my lady. The Earl is a great friend to the King."

"Then let the King marry him." She replied and Ms. Davis laughed.

"Madam, do not listen to your family." Ms. Davis whispered as she leaned closer, "If they are here to do what I fear they want to do then…I have to feel sorry for you." Moll murmured as she pursed her red painted lips.

Elizabeth flinched, "I wouldn't listen to vicious rumors if I were you." She sputtered.

Moll smiled, "Rumors? Look to your left." She motioned with her head and Elizabeth swiftly turned around.

On the left was her grandfather, Lord Haly, with a young man by his side. They were talking together animatedly and as soon as the young man spotted her, he smiled. She tensed up.

"That's the Earl of Mulgrave." Ms. Davis pointed out, "Now look to your right." She almost snickered and Elizabeth obliged. From the right she caught sight of the King, but he was not alone. Beside him was the Earl of Rochester. She almost gasped and her stomach twisted into a tight knot.

Both women turned towards the King and bowed low.

"Ah, Ms. Davis." The King exclaimed, "You're keeping company to Ms. Malet right before our dinner. How wonderful."

The women looked up and Elizabeth focused her attention on the King and not his company. It was of no use though because she could feel the Earl's eyes burning holes against the side of her face.

"Good evening, your Majesty. I am honored by your invitation once again." She said with a tiny smile and the King nodded his head.

"How is your mother? I saw your father earlier…And I can see Lord Haly approaching with the Earl of Mulgrave…I do not recall him being invited…Johnny?" He turned to Rochester who gave a tiny shrug and leaned against his walking stick.

"It is news to me, your Majesty." He murmured as his eyes returned upon Elizabeth's form.

She flushed and took a step to the right as her grandfather finally approached them.

"Your Majesty." Lord Haly bowed his head and then smiled, "I found the Earl on my way here…Lord Rochester." He acknowledged the scowling Earl who nodded at him without softening his expression.

"Shire." The Earl of Mulgrave bowed and when he locked eyes with Rochester he smirked, "My Lord."

"Lord Sheffield…How shocking for you to be here." Rochester stated and the other Earl chuckled.

"Not really. The King's never had such lovely visitors before…or kinder." Lord Sheffield turned his eyes upon Elizabeth who stared back at him steadily. At her cool gaze, he faltered and cleared his throat.

"Indeed. With the permission of your majesty and Lord Haly's approval, of course, may I show the gardens to Ms. Malet?" Rochester proposed and Elizabeth looked up at his blatant suggestion.

Her wide eyes went to her grandfather who was looking at Rochester intently. When he did not speak she realized that he was not going to forbid a stroll with the King's friend.

"Yes, of course, John. We shall be waiting for you for dinner in an hour, yes?" The King nodded his head and the Earl of Mulgrave seemed ready to speak, but Ms. Davis cut him off.

"Shall we walk inside, my Lord?" She slipped her hand through his elbow and Lord Sheffield forced a tight smile upon his lips.

"Certainly, madam."

Elizabeth took a deep breath as Rochester approached her and offered her his hand.

"My Lady." he smiled and his eyes wrinkled at the corners.

She looked up and eyed his hand with indecision before she nodded. Her hand slid over his and she could feel his skin; warm and smooth under her palm. Her cheeks turned pink as he pulled her closer, trapping her to his side with a possessive tug.

"This way…Have you seen the tennis court yet?" He asked her quietly and she shook her head.

He grinned.

"Then that's our first stop next time." He started leading her away and she followed him in silence.

"You're nervous." He pointed out and she looked up sharply.

"Nervous? Why do you say that?" She asked and he smirked, looking away.

"You're not even looking up, madam…Do I make you nervous?"

"Should I be nervous because of you, my Lord?" She asked him instead and he cocked an eyebrow.

"I think you should…" He nodded and she gasped quietly.

"Am I in danger, you say?" She asked him sharply and he chuckled a little.

"No, madam. You _are_ the danger, I fear. You must fear yourself, not me." His walking stick clunked loudly as they walked and she pursed her lips.

"Why must I fear myself?"

He turned and pinned her with a stare, "Because whatever might happen to you, you would have caused it yourself, my lady." He breathed and she stopped walking.

"You don't take rejection well, my Lord."

He actually laughed and looked up for a moment, before he composed himself and turned to her, "Why would you say that? I just complimented you. Don't you see that a man could kill his best friend in order to acquire you?" His eyes fell upon her lips and she abruptly pulled her hand from his. He let her and smirked at her while regarding her keenly.

"Compliment? You just called me dangerous." She exclaimed and he slipped closer.

"Madam, beauty can be dangerous…And your eyes…" he inhaled deeply, "A man could drown in them." He smiled when she took a step back, looking rather flushed.

"My Lord." She admonished.

"I already am…Care to offer a dying man a helping hand? But I think you won't…" he approached her and she stepped back, "You're too cruel, I fear."

"Cruel?" She whispered with shock.

"I called upon you twice…You never agreed to see me." His eyes flashed with accusation and she cleared her throat.

"Perhaps you're too brazen. Is your title providing such cheek?" She asked with a raised eyebrow and somehow, as she took another step back, he trapped her against a tree trunk. He placed a hand against the wood and leaned close.

"Madam, I assure you that my title can offer little to nothing when it comes to you. You must know that." He stated and she narrowed her eyes.

"I have no wish to know about your fortunes." She informed him and he nodded.

"The feeling is mutual. I am probably the only one who won't cajole you for your money…my Lady." He murmured and she swallowed hard.

"Now you're being cruel. Do I have no redeeming qualities besides my two thousand pounds a year?" She asked and he paused.

"Madam, you are witty. Show it now, for you won't have the chance for the rest of the evening. Wit amongst fools is often considered as cheek and rudeness." He told her and when she smelled the heady scent of alcohol on his breath she pursed her lips.

"Fools? Only a fool would come drunk at a dinner with the King." She said and he smirked a little.

"It takes more than a few glasses to turn me into a witless drunkard-…"

"I never said witless-…"

"You just called me a fool." He pointed out and she faltered.

"There is no reasoning with you, my Lord…I do wonder how the ladies stand you."

"They do not have to stand in my presence, madam. Who would appreciate them standing?" He remarked crudely and she ducked under his arm.

He laughed.

"I can see that I am amusing you, sir. I have no wish to do that. What do you want from me?" She asked him while forcing her hands in front of her belly.

He pushed away from the tree and approached her, "Do you play Pall Mall, Ms. Malet?" He asked her suddenly and she blinked in confusion.

"I do not understand…Are you looking for an extra player?" She asked and he took a step closer.

"It's just a simple question."

"I do not realize the purpose of the question." Her voice turned shrill and he raised his hand up in surrender.

"I thought it was obvious, madam."

"What is obvious is your attempt at trying to ridicule me. If you have no interest in my fortune, then I have to wonder what you're doing here. My instinct tells me that you're a liar." She stepped back, ready to flee, but he approached her slowly as if she were a startled animal.

"My dear lady, I do not think anyone would ever dare ridicule you. My intention is to know you…My question still stands; can you play Pall Mall?" His lips broke into a smile that was meant to cajole and she narrowed her eyes.

"You praised me for my wit, but you're playing me for a fool just now."

"I do not think so-…"

"First of all, sir, if you wanted to get to know me, or court me, which I think is your main interest, you wouldn't sneak upon me in the palace. You would arrange a meeting with my chaperon. No? That is the proper etiquette. Maybe I have stayed too long in the country, or maybe you think me too young to be intelligent, but trust me when I say that I know how courting works, my _Lord_." She blew a curl of her hair away from her face, but he remained silent, simply staring at her.

She shifted uncomfortably and his gaze made her feel odd about her verbal diarrhea.

He bit his lip and took a small step closer, "Who would care about propriety when there is such fire in you, my Lady?"

He gave a small bow and reached out for her hand. She pulled it back, but he managed to trap it in his own.

"Forgive me. I have offended you." He brought her hand to his lips and when he pressed it against them she stiffened. Color spread from her neck to her face and she averted her eyes as he briefly laved her skin with his tongue.

"No need for seduction, my Lord." She softly pulled her hand away, "A simple apology will suffice."

He smiled at her soft words and he licked his lips, "I would dare to offend you again if I could be left with your taste upon my tongue, my Lady." He murmured and she fidgeted.

He chuckled.

"I do apologize though. Profoundly." he started walking again and she hesitated, "Will you answer me about the game?" He asked her quietly and she resumed walking with him.

"Unfortunately, I am not familiar with the game of Pall Mall…" She replied at last and he nodded his head.

"Then I would like to invite you to St. James's Park one morning." He told her and she paused.

"St. James's Park?" she asked and his lips twitched, "Careful, my Lord, or I'd think you have something different that a game in your mind."

He laughed darkly, "What do you do with such a dirty mind, madam?" he turned to look at her, "The Park is being renovated. It will be ready for the King's use in a week or so. It has been redesigned for Pall Mall." He told her and she flushed.

"Oh…I thought it had other uses as well…" She trailed off.

He smiled distantly, "Oh, I imagine those uses will be upheld…" he looked at her sideways, "Well? Shall we play together one of these days?" He asked her and she gave a tiny shrug.

"We shall see, my Lord."

He looked forward and pursed his lips, "Will you accept me if I call upon you this week?" He asked and she smiled.

"If you call at an appropriate hour…"

"I shall. I swear that I shall." he paused and pointed to a path with his cane, "That path will lead you back to the palace." He told her and she paused, surprised.

"You shall not join us for dinner?" She asked and he stared at her, unblinking, before he gently shook his head.

"No, madam. Your grandfather will be cross and I intend to find myself into his good books." He took a deep breath, "I shall escort you back."

The return to the palace was spent in silence.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"I thought the purpose of this trip was to find appropriate suitors, mother." Elizabeth watched as the footman left and turned to face her mother, "Sending someone away thrice, is not going to seem very polite or generous."

Lady Hawley sighed, "You said it yourself; _appropriate_."

"The Earl of Rochester is a member of the peerage and a personal friend of the King. How do you think he is going to react when he finds out that we've denied him entrance again?"

"The King can judge for himself who is appropriate for a lady like you-…"

"I know you have received a letter from the Countess of Rochester. Do not deny it." Elizabeth cut her mother off, "What did you reply?"

Her mother closed her eyes briefly in resignation, "Lizzie, I have sent no response. I do wonder why you have such ardor about this issue. You do not have a soft spot for him, do you?" Lady Hawley narrowed her eyes and Elizabeth averted her eyes.

"You have allowed Lord Sheffield, the Earl of Mulgrave to visit. It puts us into a bad light. Or do you judge by the gentlemen's pockets?" She asked sharply and her mother gasped.

"Lower your voice, child! Have you lost your wits? The Earl of Mulgrave is a gentleman and not a rogue with a high addiction to wine and women." Lady Hawley hissed.

"All men at court have similar addictions, mother. Father does too-…"

"Elizabeth!"

The young woman closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, "All I am saying is that perhaps we should be as friendly and polite as we can to the King's friends. Shall I remind you that we are here because of grandfather? We need to rely on the King's good graces."

"And I think that you have been enthralled by a man who will make your life miserable because he is nothing more than a notorious womanizer and a man who has been exiled in the past because of his brazen nature." Her mother admonished her, "Please, compose yourself and stop encouraging him."

"I am not encouraging him! And you should stop encouraging Lord Sheffield because in the end, the decision will be mine and mine alone. I am a part of this game and I will play it as I wish. Until now, Lord Sheffield's assets do not make up for his lack of charm or wit, mother. Pass my thoughts to father, yes? Good night." She turned on her heel and walked away.

She closed her chamber door softly and her mother was left staring after her with wide eyes and a gaping mouth.

Elizabeth's father appeared and his dark, severe gaze fell upon his wife who ducked her head and sighed.

"I hope that she won't pose a problem, my dear. Try and reign her in or else, I will." John Malet said quietly and Lady Hawley looked up.

"I do not know what is wrong. I thought that she didn't like the man…" She whispered as he approached.

"The Earl of Rochester is very influential, Elizabeth. That is why the King has him next to him. Do not underestimate him." With those words, he turned and walked away.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

She pulled the cotton napkin from the tray, but something fell upon her lap with a gentle thud. She frowned and dabbed at her mouth, before she reached for the small note. Quirking an eyebrow in surprise, she unfolded it and when she looked at it she froze.

_My dear Lady,_

_I have decided that the only way to reach you is this. I am not sure if it was your choice to deny me your company, because I am certain that your kind disposition would never allow you such a cruel act._

_If it was not your choice, then please do me the honor of gracing me with your luminous presence this upcoming Saturday. If you decide to come to me, a carriage shall be waiting for you in the morning to fetch you to Hampton Court. If you are kind enough to allow me, I shall be proud to be your tutor for your first game of Pall Mall._

_Before you are quick to scold me, I have the King's approval._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Your humble servant, _

_Rochester._

Elizabeth's eyes went wide and she quickly hid the letter in the folds of her skirt. She eyed the tray upon her lap and then she looked at the door of her chamber, wondering how difficult it would be to escape her mother for a few hours…If she decided to go…If…

**End of chapter 3**

**Author's note: Thank you for reading! Comments?**

***Info: St. James's Park was designed for Pall Mall during Charles' II reign. It was the favorite Royal pastime.**

**Also, John Sheffield, 3****rd**** Earl of Mulgrave and later 1****st**** Duke of Buckingham and Normanby, is a historical figure and a very prominent Earl in Charles' court. He married much later in 1694 and that is why I am using him as one of Elizabeth's suitors.**

**So, comments, please?**

**Xxx Lina ;o)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Welcome back! I apologize for the delay. **

**I want to thank: dionne dance, XantheXV, TinkerbellxO, MissMisc3, Malsie19, Newland Archer, CharlieCats, Makrciana, PGAEmma and ElleWillBite.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

'_**Teach not thy lip such scorn, for it was made For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.'**_

_**~William Shakespeare**_

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?"

Elizabeth squeezed her eyes shut and paused with her hand upon the doorknob.

"Lizzie?"

She placed a neutral expression upon her face and turned, trying not to look too ruffled at having been caught.

"I was just about to take a stroll around the palace." She replied and her mother gazed at her attire. Her simple blue dress was proving to be a good choice since it was nothing fancy; nothing that would expose her lie. Nothing that would show her intention of leaving the palace.

"So early?" Lady Elizabeth walked over to her daughter and regarded her with a critical eye.

"Why not? It's a lovely day."

Her mother narrowed her eyes, "Fine. Then let me get you a servant-…"

"I want to go alone." Elizabeth cut her off, 'Please." She added with a small smile.

"Alone?" her mother gasped, her elegant hand travelling up to cover her mouth, "A single young lady taking strolls in the palace alone? That is not adequate. I shall come with you…"

"Mother…" Elizabeth sighed and as her mother walked away to put her cloak on she bit her lip. Maybe it was for the best. She hadn't even thought her decision through. She had decided not to go, at first, but when she woke up that morning a feeling had disputed her original thought.

"Is it windy? Do I need heavier clothes?" Her mother called from the other room and Elizabeth rubbed her forehead.

"I wouldn't know…"

She had barely finished her sentence when a knock came on the door.

Elizabeth walked over and gently opened the heavy door. There, at the long hall of Whitehall, standing in front of the door with a smile was Moll Davis.

"Ms. Davis?" Elizabeth murmured and the woman nodded her head at her. Her lips were already painted in a dark red and they were curled up at the corners in a mischievous grin.

"Lady Malet." She gave a small bow, "I am here in hopes that you will join me for a stroll. There is a carriage waiting for us two. It was the King's suggestion." She added just as Lady Hawley appeared with her cloak.

Elizabeth was baffled, but at the woman's sly smirk she knew something was just not right.

"The King?" Lady Hawley gasped, "How lovely, Lizzie. You must go." She gushed with excitement and Elizabeth paused.

"Um, I will join you if that is the King's desire." She responded, surprised when her mother did not object and agreed to stay behind. Odd…or maybe not. Her mother craved any social contact with the King's friends after all.

With a light farewell and a small smile, Elizabeth pushed back the confusion and apprehension and followed closely behind.

Ms. Davis was dressed in a black and red gown, her luxurious hair falling in loose curls down her back. Satin, lace and silk were joined to create an illusion of wealth that brought memories of a different time; an image that spoke of majesty and Elizabeth briefly wondered just how much the King spent on his female company. From Ms. Davis' attire she gathered that he spent a fortune on the whims of his mistresses. Ms. Davis' gown could surely surpass the Queen's wardrobe.

"Like it, Ms. Malet?" The woman's voice broke Elizabeth from her train of thought and she looked up with a start, her cheeks flushed at having been caught staring like a hawk at the woman's clothes.

"Pardon?" she whispered as she sped up her pace until she was walking beside the woman rather than behind her.

"The dress." Ms. Davis turned to look at her, her wide eyes shining with amusement, "It's the latest French fashion."

Elizabeth smiled, "It's lovely."

"Is that the only thing you thought?" Ms. Davis snickered when Elizabeth flushed, "I thought not. I am here for a purpose, dear. No one is going to claim that I don't deserve what I get." She winked and Elizabeth swallowed thickly.

"I meant not offence." She spoke with moderation and Ms. Davis snickered.

"None taken, dear. This way."

They stepped into the gardens and as they took the path that led to the gates, two footmen stepped beside them.

"Where are we going?" Elizabeth asked and Ms. Davis only smiled.

"You shall see." The cryptic reply did nothing for Elizabeth's twisted stomach.

The carriage was a large one. Six black horses were standing regally, their wavy manes bellowing with the wind and Elizabeth had never seen such beauty.

"They are a gift. The King received them a few days ago." Ms. Davis spoke up and Elizabeth looked away from the horses to gaze at the other woman.

She ignored the sly smirk and smiled, "Who gave such a precious gift?"

Ms. Davis entered the carriage and as Elizabeth followed her and sat upon the squab, only then did she reply.

"Why, the Earl of Rochester of course." She replied and Elizabeth's eyes went wide.

Trying hard to hide her surprise, she leaned back in her seat.

"I thought we were going to take a stroll." She murmured and Ms. Davis smiled as she sat back in her seat.

"And you shall. Just not here."

She looked up at that, but Moll had her eyes elsewhere. Elizabeth frowned.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Why are we here?" Elizabeth asked as soon as the carriage stopped right outside the gates of Hampton Palace.

Ms. Davis simply walked out of the coach and turned to her, "I think you know why, Ms. Malet. Do not try to fool me that you have no idea." She replied as she turned and started walking towards the palace.

Elizabeth lingered, but then quickly climbed out of the carriage and followed the other woman. Her skirts were making it difficult for her to run, but she sped up the pace in order to reach Moll.

"I do not understand! How…how did you know where I wanted to go?" She tried to keep her voice quiet, but the questions were eating her up like rabid worms.

"Lord Rochester is not a simple man, Ms. Malet. I am simply helping him." Moll replied as they passed through the guards and headed for the palace's wide open garden.

"You are fond of the Earl?" Elizabeth frowned and when she realized that she had been manipulated into giving into his invitation she felt anger building up inside her. The man was a force of nature; unstoppable. Also, he clearly did not trust her to go to him on her own free will.

Ms. Davis chuckled, "I am rather fond of his coin." She winked and suddenly stopped, "That way. I think you shall find him somewhere around here." She waved her pale hand towards the trees and trimmed bushes before she folded her hands over her belly, "I shall be waiting for your return in the carriage. You have an hour." With that she turned and walked away.

Elizabeth's eyes followed the King's mistress and she curled her fingers around her dress. He had paid the woman? It was unbelievable and yet so…him.

Feeling her skin prickling with warmth, she turned back around, her eyes roaming the large open space in front of her. She could see nothing. The gardens were empty…which was odd, but then again it was quite early.

She dropped her skirts and used her hands to push back stray locks of her hair while her feet brought her deeper and deeper into the greenery. Her shoes stepped into the soft fluffy grass and she could feel the wetness of it tickling her ankles. She smiled a little and looked down, momentarily forgetting where she was.

"Good morrow, my Lady." His voice came from behind a large tree and she looked up.

She was not startled because she had been expecting him to be somewhere nearby.

He was without his wig and his brown locks were billowing with the wind. His cheeks had a rosy tinge to them and they were a deep contrast to his pale skin. His brown eyes were glimmering and burning with emotions. He held no glass and the only thing that was speaking of his rank was the long cane in his hand. He was dressed in normal attire; nothing too fancy and nothing too simple. The gold trimming on his overcoat was sparkling in the sun and his dark boots were shining. In little words; he was immaculately dressed.

Elizabeth shook her head and quickly bowed her head, "My Lord." She looked up at him through light, but thick eyelashes, "This meeting must have cost you a lot." She murmured and a crooked grin lit up his features as he stopped a few feet away from her.

"I like to think that it was worth the effort." He replied casually and she narrowed her eyes.

"You're trying to guilt me into _not_ scolding you for meeting me like a thief." She said as she straightened.

"But there was no other way to meet with you, my Lady." He said as he raised his hand and hesitated briefly before he beckoned her closer with two fingers.

Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow, but when she saw two footmen entering the garden, she obliged out of propriety.

Once she was right in front of him, he lowered his hand and regarded her keenly, his eyes drinking her in with the devoted studiousness of a scholar. When his gaze had passed twice over her lips and eyes, he smiled.

"Since you came, I imagine Ms. Davis had little trouble in convincing you." He stepped even closer and when his eyes flickered towards the footmen he gently grasped her hand.

"You cannot blame me for my curiosity, my Lord. And Ms. Davis did not tell me the truth." She replied after a moment's hesitation.

His gaze turned sharply towards her again and he smirked before he stepped back and tugged her along.

Elizabeth gasped and she stumbled. The abrupt movement caused her to lose her balance and she landed on his chest with her hands squeezed between their bodies.

Rochester chuckled in amusement and then turned them around, pressing her against the tree.

"Madam," he started in a quiet voice, "I condone even the highest levels of curiosity. As a matter of fact, I think curiosity is a great thing." He leaned closer and Elizabeth shivered when his breath fell upon her lips, "It can show us a lot." His eyes dropped to her lips, "It can teach us a lot." He smirked and locked eyes with her.

She exhaled with difficulty and she tried to look severe, but the wild beating of her heart was not letting her.

"You're so daring, my Lord. Do you know what will happen if my parents find out you used manipulation to get me alone?" She whispered and he balanced a hand on the tree right next to her head as he looked down at her with mirth.

"Manipulation? Why, my dear lady." He leaned even closer, so close that his lower lip was brushing against her mouth with ever word, "You didn't seem at all surprised when you are arrived." He smirked.

She blinked, "How long have you been watching me then?"

"Long enough to know what I am talking about." He replied smartly and she looked down between them. His pelvis was pressed almost indecently against her and she tried to ignore the warmth coming from his body.

"Very well. Now that you have me here, what are you going to do with me?" She asked and he breathed in sharply.

"Madam, there are lots of things I'd like to do with you, but I imagine you wouldn't be willing to hear me speaking of them just yet." He murmured as his free hand reached up and tucked a lock of her hair behind her dainty ear.

"_Yet?"_ she echoed.

"Hmm. Yet." His finger trailed down her cheek in a long languid, toe curling caress and then his gaze was fixated upon her lips, "I imagine you wouldn't be willing to allow me to steal a kiss." He said and she pursed her lips.

"Again you speak of something illicit. Is that the only way you can act, I wonder? You don't fight to deserve what you desire?" She asked as she looked him in the eye.

"When I have no choice I act like a rogue, yes." He nodded his head and as he did so his hair tickled her cheeks.

"What do you mean by choice?" She questioned and he pulled his finger away.

"Madam, I shall speak clearly in hopes that you will realize what this is. I have not been allowed to see you; with or without a chaperon. Your parents don't find me appropriate."

"Appropriate for what?" She asked shakily.

Rochester laughed a little, "Ms. Malet, do you think I spend money to meet with women every day?"

"Yes." she replied and he cocked an eyebrow, "Like most men you're a frequent visitor to brothels. Am I wrong? Your reputation precedes you, my Lord, so you have to forgive my cheek." She added and he ran his tongue over his lips before he replied.

"Indeed. Like most men, like you said. That is not a fault yet."

"When you are doing it in public it is." She fired back.

"I imagine rumors are not working in my favor then. Pray, what else do you know about me?" He leaned to his right side and his face was etched with interest and…amusement. He was enjoying it.

Elizabeth gritted her teeth, "My Lord, you are playing with me again. Why am I here? I thought you were going to teach me Pall Mall."

"Do you _want_ me to teach you Pall Mall, madam? From what I gathered you think me a whoring cad."

She inhaled sharply, "I hear you write verses." She said instead and he paused.

"Indeed."

"You a friend of the King." she added, "How does that feel?" She asked and he smiled.

"It feels positively wonderful…when he can help me acquire such a beautiful English rose like yourself." He replied and she took the chance to escape the confines of his arms by ducking under his left arm.

He chuckled and turned to face her.

"I am not an object, my Lord. Why should I accept your advances when everything tells me that I shouldn't?" Elizabeth crossed her arms over her chest defensively and he pushed away from the tree rather abruptly.

"Because you find me interesting…and because you're curious. The rumors have made you curious." He stepped closer and she didn't move in fear of showing weakness.

"And because you are everything a man should want." His eyes were burning with confidence as he spoke, "And despite my many faults, I think you are the kind of woman to crave emotion despite the danger that hides behind it." He was a breath away from her and as he kept on their staring contest, his hands were brushing over her arms without actually touching her.

Elizabeth shivered and every hair on her body stood on end because of his close proximity.

"What danger?" She whispered weakly and he pursed his lips in thought.

"The danger that everyone dreads; the danger of being betrayed. The almost certain possibility that eventually you will get hurt. We are all hurt by everyone. That's the course of nature, isn't it…Elizabeth?" He murmured and she swallowed hard.

She licked her suddenly dry lips before she spoke, "So you propose a life full of cheating and agony as the alternative of a loveless, boring marriage. Am I reading your words correctly?" She asked quietly and he hesitated before he frowned.

"When you put it like that neither of the two options sounds appealing…Not even to me…But, yes. You are right." He nodded his head and she took a deep breath.

"You have forgotten another option that starts to seem more and more tempting, my Lord." she started, "The chance of remaining alone for the rest of my life." She narrowed her eyes and regarded him shrewdly.

He actually laughed and ran a hand through his long hair, "Where is the adventure in that? You disappoint me, madam." He stepped closer and leaned down so their noses touched. He smelled of vanilla, ink and wine. Odd combination, but so very real.

"I think it'd be a pity to die without knowing what this…body can do to a man…Or how these eyes can be used to trap a heart." His fingers captured her chin and she scoffed.

"You're talking about fornication. What a low example you chose."

"And how obvious it is that you're too young and virtuous." He murmured and then his hand clasped the back of her head. With a sharp pull, he brought her face closer and then his lips were on hers. He stepped backwards so they were hidden from view and he used his fingers to his advantage, curling them around her locks in order to pull her closer.

Elizabeth's eyes remained open wide and her hands were pressed against his stomach as the heat of his mouth enflamed her lips and tongue. His taste clouded her senses and her feet nearly lost the ground from under them. Her skin started prickling with warmth and her body became alive. His mouth pressed harder and his tongue touched her with such intimacy that she thought she would combust if he kept it up. A heavy weight fell upon her hip and she realized that he had let his hand drop there. His fingers were digging into her skin through her clothing and as he led their mouths to glide wetly together she whimpered, the sound reverberating into his own mouth like an echo. He groaned and touched her face with his hand. With a last lick on her upper lip, he broke the kiss, releasing her mouth with a soft pop that in Elizabeth's ears sounded too loud.

She could feel his gaze on her face and she opened her own eyes, the eyes that she hadn't realized she had squeezed firmly shut.

Quickly and with a blazing blush on her cheeks, she opened her eyes and once their gazes locked he smiled.

"You will forgive a man's too eager attempts, my Lady, won't you? My only goal is to make you mine…and get to know you." He murmured and she briefly wondered-even through her haze-if he was being sincere.

"Your way of courtship is very odd and daring, my Lord." She whispered and as she spoke she could still taste him on her tongue. She shivered when she realized that she had barely denied his advances. Who was she fooling? She hadn't done a thing to stop him.

"But it has grasped your attention, has it not?" He murmured with amusement and she swallowed thickly.

"You wish to get to know me…How about my family? They won't ever allow it." She told him and he pursed those lips, not allowing her to forget that a moment ago they were pressed against hers.

"Not even if I offer the dowry?" He cocked an eyebrow and she stepped back. His hand fell from her hip and she shook her head.

"You're hasty, sir. How do you know that I will agree?" She narrowed her eyes at him and he raised his hands up in surrender.

"I make no assumptions, my Lady. But it seemed to me, just now, that your only concern is them. Correct me if I am wrong." He added the last sentence with a smile and she was at a loss for words.

She sputtered for a few moments before she closed her eyes and took a deep calming breath.

"You are scrambling my head, my Lord. You really do." She muttered and he laughed.

"Do not be amused. I am serious." She eyed him with intensity, "I've no idea what you really want."

The Earl stopped chuckling and licked his lower lip before he bit down onto it.

"I shall try and make it simple then." He murmured before he slipped his hand into his pocket. He produced a velvet pouch which he opened. Something shiny dropped into his palm and Elizabeth's eyes were drawn to it.

"I want you to be my wife, madam. Is that plain enough?" he stepped closer and took hold of her hand, "And I will do anything to achieve my purpose." He made her curl her fingers around the cold object and Elizabeth blinked almost dazedly.

"A hair pin." She whispered.

"Hmm. A token of my affection. I shall be greatly wounded if you deny it." He pulled his fingers away and she looked at him, trying not to look too much on the jewel. It would be rude if she stared at the gift.

"Are you always this insistent when you want something?" she asked him as she held onto the pin tightly.

"Hmm. You cannot imagine how insistent I can be." he murmured with a smirk and then stepped closer, "There is a premiere at the playhouse in a few days. The King has invited me to join him. I suspect that you will be invited too." he said as he gazed at her closed fist, "If I see you wearing it I'll consider it as a blatant sign of agreement from your part. If not, I won't bother you ever again." he took a step back and bowed low, keeping his eyes on hers, "My Lady." He whispered huskily, but before he could take his leave Elizabeth spoke up.

"My Lord Rochester." She called and he paused.

"Madam?"

"What do you intend to do with such a young inexperienced bride I wonder?" she asked him quietly, "I am not one of the women you know. I am not Ms. Davis." She said with determination and he smiled.

"My Lady, why do you think I'd bother if you were one of them?" He replied elusively and she was surprised at his kind tone.

"Infatuation can speak big fat words, my Lord." She whispered and his eyes flickered towards her mouth once more.

"Who says I am simply infatuated, my Lady?" He replied cryptically and she smiled a little.

"I won't presume to behave as if I know you, because I don't. But women," she stepped closer, "do not appreciate words that are simply meant to fool and charm. So unless you mean the sentences you speak perhaps it is more prudent to remain quiet. But I imagine you already know that your eyes speak for you, my Lord. Perhaps you know it a little too well. So, maybe, just maybe words are unnecessary sometimes." She took a deep breath and hid the pin in the pocket of her heavy skirt before she looked up. She was momentarily surprised at the look of deep concentration and perhaps the look of appreciation in his dark gaze.

"I fear our time is up, yes?" She whispered uncomfortably and she started to walk away, but then she stopped.

She gazed at the sky and bit her lip before she turned to look at him. He was still standing and gazing at her thoughtfully. She suddenly felt embarrassed of her words. Maybe she had spoken out of line? Or maybe she had hit a nerve.

"I will accept your desire of wanting to know me, my Lord. So, here's a little something you must know." She paused, "I write as well. Good day." She bowed and with a last incline of her head, she walked away.

She could feel his eyes on her back and his silence unnerved her. She ignored the footmen behind her and took the path that led to the exit. As she walked, she could feel the weight of the pin in her pocket, but she resisted the urge to pull it out and look at it. Instead, she lifted a hand to her lips and touched them gently. Her mouth was burning and knees still felt weak, but an odd feeling of expectance was twisting her stomach into tiny knots. It was absurd to find him interesting…perhaps too absurd for her circle's tastes. She bit her lip because she knew that her parents would never give him a chance. She knew that she herself wasn't even sure if he was the right choice. He was too reckless for her conservative family, too ambitious, too daring in his advances, too hasty…too forward for her inexperience.

Her feet quickly brought her to the carriage, but she found it empty.

"Ms. Davis?" She asked quietly and driver woke up from his nap. He cleared his throat and looked down at her, securing his hat with his hand as he did so.

"She 'ad business in the palace, ma'am." He replied groggily and she nodded before she entered the coach.

As the horses started leading her back to Whitehall, she found the chance to look at the pin.

She brought it up to her eyes and inhaled deeply when she saw the design. It was made of silver and the intricate design was depicting a phoenix in flight. Its large wings were decorated with tiny rubies that shone in the sunlight. The rubies were the exact same color of the Earl's ring and she smiled.

The carriage shook heavily and she quickly put it away in fear of loosing it. Folding her hands on her lap, she gazed outside of the window and tried to ignore the burn on her lips.

**End of chapter 4**

**Author's note: Thank you for reading. I had meant to include more, but…I figured I should save a certain incident for the next chapter…;o)**

**So, thoughts, please? They will cheer me up and make me update faster! Please?**

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**Xxx Lina ;o)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Welcome, welcome! Once again, I want to thank my readers and of course my reviewers! So, a huge thank you to: Makrciana, lottielovebuzz, Newland Archer, XantheXV, MissMisc3, TinkerbellxO, PGAEmma and dionne dance.**

**You are all soooooooo cool for following me in this little journey. I love my OCs, that is true, but I have a very special place for Ms. Elizabeth Malet in my heart…Anyone who has seen the film must agree with me. **

**Anyway, on with the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine.**

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**Chapter 5**

_**Sinful and forbidden pleasures are like poisoned bread; they may satisfy appetite for the moment, but there is death in them at the end.**_

_**~Tryon Edwards**_

The playhouse was crowded; too crowded for Elizabeth's taste. She sighed as she tried to pass through a few gentlemen who had forced themselves in the middle of the entrance and her mother tightened her hold on her arm to the point of pain.

"Mother." She sighed and Lady Elizabeth clicked her tongue.

"Such rudeness. Standing in the middle of the gates like they own the playhouse." The older woman complained as she smoothed her hair behind her shoulder and ran a hand down the length of her skirt.

"They probably do own it, mother." Elizabeth pointed out as she squinted in a futile attempt to see her grandfather.

"They do not." Lady Elizabeth said with confidence, "They are simply the top patrons here…Oh my." Her mother stopped in her tracks and Elizabeth paused as well, craning her neck in order to see what had grasped her mother's attention so abruptly.

"Disgusting." Lady Hawley's lip curled at the sight of the various girls who were flaunting their assets to well bred gentlemen.

Elizabeth swallowed hard and looked away, knowing that if she were to look careful enough she'd notice most of her suitors there. They were probably hiding into darkened alcoves with their gold in their hands and their clothes in disarray.

She shook her head and tried to ignore the twisting in her belly when a certain gentleman came into her mind.

"Come, come…Ah! Look, the Earl of Mulgrave is here. Let us go and greet him." Her mother exclaimed, but Elizabeth came to a sudden halt.

"Mother! He has company." She hissed and Lady Hawley shrugged.

"So? It's only good manners."

"But he is not alone!"

"Lord Sheffield!" She was cut off by her mother's relatively loud call and she placed a hand on her temple, rubbing it before she followed after her mother in silence.

The Earl of Mulgrave stopped leaning into his companion and her red pouty lips curved even more when she was pushed none too subtly away.

"Lady Hawley." He bowed and when he noticed Elizabeth his gray eyes widened, "Lady Malet. What an unexpected pleasure. I didn't know you'd be here." He quickly took her hand and brought it to his beautiful lips for a kiss.

Elizabeth stiffened, "My Lord." She inclined her head, "Of course you didn't know since you didn't pay me the honor of informing you'd be here a day before our _arranged_ meeting." Elizabeth's light eyes flickered over to his companion and the Earl fidgeted slightly where he stood.

"I beg your pardon, madam…I didn't-…" He started nervously, but Elizabeth didn't speak.

Instead, her mother spoke up, her glare directed towards her daughter.

"Come, come, Lizzie. Don't be so harsh on our Lord." Lady Hawley turned soft eyes on the young man, "The King invited us to his box." She said proudly and Elizabeth gazed at her pale hands before she reached up and absentmindedly fingered the pin in her hair.

"How lovely. Aren't you a little early for the show?" Lord Sheffield asked and then his eyes flickered towards Elizabeth's hair.

"Well…" lady Hawley laughed, "We do not get much entertainment in the country. We decided to make the best of it while here, my Lord."

"Indeed. Ms. Malet, what a lovely ornament." The Earl of Mulgrave murmured and Elizabeth stiffened when her mother turned and looked at her.

"Oh, Lizzie, indeed. You never told me who have you such a lovely present." Her mother gushed.

"Thank you, my Lord. I fear I do not know the person who gave me this…I found it on my bed one morning." Elizabeth said quietly, the lie burning her tongue as she said it, but she didn't want to cause a scene in front of the Earl _and_ her mother.

"How odd…But what a charming gesture." Her mother said thoughtfully and Lord Sheffield nodded his head.

"Indeed…Charming." His eyes lingered on the crimson gems and Elizabeth smiled.

"Well, from your surprise, I take it you are not the one who sent it to me, my Lord Sheffield." She said lightly and the man gulped and eyed her and then her mother with a slack mouth.

"Um, my Lady…" He sputtered and Elizabeth laughed, causing the wench behind the Earl to wrinkle her nose at the melodious laughter and sit straight up, trying, but failing to acquire the same posture as Ms. Malet.

"I am only jesting, sir. Surely you realize that I am not so spoiled as to insult young gentlemen, yes?" She smiled and Lord Sheffield visibly relaxed.

"Ah, I must find your grandfather…Excuse me for a moment, yes?" Her mother walked several feet away and Elizabeth gaped after her.

The Earl of Mulgrave tensed up and with a terse motion of his head, he sent the wench on her way.

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them and Elizabeth tried not to look too wary. When several minutes passed without a word, she turned towards the Earl.

"I've been told the King's favorite pastime is Pall Mall. What about you, your Grace?" she asked just to break the silence and the Earl cleared his throat and straightened.

"Um…I am afraid I am not very adventurous when it comes to outdoors pursuits." He replied and she blinked.

"Oh…" Elizabeth murmured, "Well, what do you like to do in your free time?…Aside from going after young ladies of course." She added with a tiny chuckle and he broke into a smile.

"I play cards." He replied and she hummed.

"Ah, cards." She nodded her head, "I am not good at cards…" She trailed off and another silence took over until he broke it.

"What do you like to do?" He asked her and she smiled a little.

"A lot of things that you'd probably find tiresome." She answered cryptically and he paused, obviously reluctant to ask more after her answer.

Elizabeth turned away from him and narrowed her eyes. Where was his bloody interest? What did he want in a wife? She wanted to laugh, but her mother returned and she looked happy.

"Come, come. Let us take a stroll around the theatre. I heard it has been renovated after the King's command. Let us go now before others enter the gallery." Her mother took her hand and looked at the Earl, "Would you like to join us?" She asked and Elizabeth looked at him curiously, interested in his answer.

"Um, I am expecting some friends." He replied with a smile.

Elizabeth had her answer. He didn't want a wife; he wanted a plant to decorate his house with.

As they bowed and walked away, Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Mother, these are the dressing rooms." Elizabeth tugged on her mother's sleeve as they walked down the corridor.

"So? I want to see the theatre."

"We should be getting back to our seats." She insisted and when she saw the royal guards a few feet away, she stopped, "Mother!"

Lady Hawley wrinkled her nose as obnoxious giggles echoed in the silence, "Are those the actors?" She murmured and Elizabeth gulped.

"No…the actors must be already in the gallery, ready to perform. That's where we're supposed to be. Please."

Lady Hawley smiled innocently, "So, this is where the King spends his time…How awful."

"Mother!" Elizabeth hissed, but when the King himself rounded the corner with a woman on his arm, both women bowed their heads.

Elizabeth bit her lip as the monarch spotted them and smiled.

"Lady Hawley, Miss Malet. How surprising. What are you doing backstage?" The King asked as he stepped forward. With a wave of his hand the girl in his company stepped aside and bowed her head, her red dress a deep contrast to her pale skin.

"We were exploring the theatre and we got lost."

Elizabeth looked up at her mother's blatant lie and her cheeks turned pink, but something behind the King's expensive clothes and wild wig caught her interest. The image of a familiar hand and the severity of a walking stick alerted her of the King's fellowship. Her eyes fell on a pair of female hands and when those hands were quick at work to right the breeches of the man who had seduced her into obedience a few days earlier, her nostrils flared and her skin prickled with heat.

"John. We have the most joyous company." The King was smart enough to alert his straying friend and Rochester paused, his hand in midair and his finger wrapped around a blond strand of hair.

His brown eyes flickered and their wicked glimmering froze when he spotted Elizabeth. He dropped his hand from his company's locks and quickly passed past her, his mouth slightly parted in surprise at seeing Elizabeth there.

"Lady Hawley." He murmured his greetings, but his eyes were on Elizabeth, "My lady." He mouthed, barely breathing out the words and Elizabeth quickly bowed her head.

"My Lord." She whispered back, her stomach clenching in an odd feeling of disappointment that gradually took control over her entire body.

"My Lord Rochester." Lady Hawley drawled, "Fancy finding you here." She said and her voice was tainted with disregard.

Elizabeth was confused. Hadn't Lord Sheffield committed the same crime? He too had a brothel girl next to him when they saw him.

Elizabeth averted her eyes when realization dawned. Ah, but Lord Sheffield had money. She wanted to vomit and the cheap perfume of the King's company made the urge more prominent.

"I could say the same, Lady Hawley…But I cannot say that I am not pleased." The Earl stepped forward and his eyes were immediately drawn to the ornament buried in Elizabeth's hair.

"Why you have brought summer's sun with you." Rochester murmured as his eyes took her in. She could literally feel him sucking the life and energy from her like a hungry leech.

Elizabeth did not meet his eyes because she knew; she knew that if she accepted that man, he'd be her downfall. She had the urge to rip his gift from her hair and throw it at his feet out of spite, but she didn't. She remained quiet like she always did. Wasn't that what men wanted in women after all? In Elizabeth's case, composure was her curse.

"How kind." Lady Hawley said with an uncomfortable smile and Elizabeth looked up.

"Good evening, my Lord." She murmured and he smiled.

"Now it is."

She gritted her teeth at his words. Did he consider her so foolish?

"Shall we take our seats then?" The King suggested as he offered his arm towards lady Hawley. She accepted it, but shot a judging glance towards Rochester who simply smirked and twisted his wrist towards the two whores, sending them on their way without a single glance towards their direction.

Elizabeth inwardly scoffed and stepped aside for the King to pass. She was left behind as the two guards trailed after his Majesty, but it did not take her long to start following.

A hand on her elbow stopped her and she tensed up.

"I won't apologize, if that is what you're waiting for." His breath was hot on her ear and he smelled of sweet wine. She licked her dry lips and turned to him with her head lowered.

"My Lord, if you did, I'd be surprised." She shot back, ready to flee, but his grip was strong, unrelenting.

"If only you'd allow me the privilege of a kiss, it'd be enough to last me a lifetime." He murmured as his nose nuzzled her bejeweled earlobe.

Elizabeth laughed and his lips twitched, "Are you sure, my Lord?" she asked as she finally looked into his eyes, "Would it be enough? And shall I remind you that you already took your kiss."

Rochester shook his head, his eyes hooded, "My Lady, I stole the kiss. There is a difference." There was challenge in his voice.

"Are you provoking me?"

"I am experimenting." He replied smartly.

"Experimenting? You wish to know if I can exhibit passion, is that it?" She asked him with slightly narrowed eyes.  
"Perhaps." He replied smoothly and she chuckled again.

His eyes darkened, "Are you laughing at me, madam?"

"No, my Lord. I just think that you must consider me too foolish or too prudish." She gently pulled her arm back and turned to face him, "I know that men are not capable of loyalty…I don't expect it, especially from you."

Rochester blinked, as if taken by surprise, "So, what in your opinion makes good marriages?" he asked her and she paused.

"Emotion." She replied swiftly.

"There's plenty of that." He fired back.

"Lust is not an emotion."

"Ah, but how can it not be when it fires the blood?" He breathed as he leaned against his cane and regarded her with intensity.

"My maidenhead is to be reserved for a man who respects me, my Lord. So far, you don't paint that man's image." She told him loudly, unabashedly and he inhaled sharply.

"Are you trying to summon my jealousy, Elizabeth?" He asked her bluntly with narrowed eyes and she stiffened.

"Never. Your Lordship must know that I do not beg for a man's attention-…"

"Obviously. But the question still stands."

She stared at him steadily, "Are you trying to summon my love, my Lord? Because so far you've been unsuccessful." Her words were sharp and in a flash he had her trapped to his chest. She gasped, but did not make a sound as her eyes locked with his.

"Liar." He breathed as he turned them around and pulled them into a darkened corner, "I must practice with you."

"Practice?"

"Deception. You're not good at it, my Lady. In fact, your attempts to push me away are having the opposite effect." He calmly placed his walking stick against the wall and then pushed her against the cool surface.

"Of course my attempts are not successful. You're a force of nature." She huffed and a lock of her hair moved with her breath.

He inhaled deeply and looked down at her, "Then tame me." He breathed and she blinked rapidly before she laughed.

"That's a concept that cannot be grasped!" She informed him.

"Then accept me." His tone sweetened, softened and she paused, blinking up at him, "You wore the pin." He murmured as he reached up to finger the gem and she swallowed hard.

"Yes."

"I want you to wear it all the time…Promise me you will." His breath fanned over her cheek as he leaned his face against hers and she shivered.

"I won't make promises if you are reluctant to do so as well." She replied firmly and he inhaled deeply.

"What do you want? Name it." His words were a hiss and she smiled a little.

"My Lord," she reached up and weaved her fingers through his hair before she tugged gently. He groaned as she did so and when their eyes locked his gaze burned her.

"Promising me something that you'll never do is useless. So, I think I shall have the privilege of not making any promises either. I think it is only fair." She murmured and then let go of his hair. He gripped her wrist and forced her palm against his cheek.

"_You_ are fair." He murmured back and she gulped, "And so beautiful…I think I shall go blind."

She laughed and his expression darkened, "Do not laugh at me." His tone was biting and she froze as his fingers moved down her wrist. He curled his fingers around the tender skin and dug his nails into the soft flesh, marking her and causing her to wince from the painful sting.

"My pain is as sharp as this," His nails buried themselves further into her skin and she cried out, "every time I see you. And you're not merciful enough to give me a single token."

"Is that the reason why most men stray then? Because they want someone they can't have at their beck and call?" She asked through the sting and he smirked.

"My love, men are not meant to be understood…but neither are women." He replied with a crooked grin and she swallowed thickly.

"Token. You spoke of a token. I fear I have nothing of value to give." She said instead and his nostrils flared before he boldly slipped a knee between her legs and trapped her against his body.

Her eyes widened and he chuckled darkly, "You know what I want…my Lady." He murmured and she eyed his mouth for a moment before she looked up into his eyes again.

"I don't trust you." She informed him with a little hesitation and he smirked.

"Good. Where would be the thrill in that?" he sighed as he leaned forward, challenging her, provoking her to give in and she pursed her lips, her eyes darting towards the corridor.

"You're not good for me." She said and he paused, a dark shadow passing over his eyes, veiling them for a few moments and then it was gone.

"I am not good for anyone."

"You'll hurt me." She whispered with a furrowed brow and his chest brushed hers as he leaned into her, supporting his weight by letting his body drop onto hers, stifling her, constricting her in a way that she never knew before.

"I already have…and yet here you are." He pressed his lips against her nose and she took a deep breath before she leaned up and caught his mouth with hers.

He grunted as she trapped his lower lip between her mouth and he lurched forward, striving to completely close the distance between them by pressing his dexterous mouth more firmly against hers.

Elizabeth gasped as he pressed her greedily against the wall and she clasped the front of his overcoat in her hands as he intensified the kiss, sliding his tongue into her gasping mouth and rubbing it against her own until she let out a soft groan.

He smirked into the kiss and abruptly he pulled back, distancing himself from her and causing her to stagger from the loss of him.

She stared at him wide eyed as he grinned at her and when he licked his bottom lip and then bit down onto it she flushed and pushed away from the wall.

"You're the devil himself, my Lord." She muttered and he threw his head back and laughed.

"I never denied it." He responded with amusement as she smoothed her hands down her dress and looked at him wearily.

"Sometimes…" she trailed off and his amusement disappeared at her serious expression.

"What?" He murmured and she swallowed hard.

"Sometimes I wonder if this is all a game to you…" She shook her head and the smirk died on his lips before he stormed towards her, his fingers on her chin.

"There's one thing you need to know about me, my love." He started through gritted teeth, "I am terribly honest." He lowered his voice, "So, when I am playing, you shall know it…Painfully if I may add." He brushed her swollen bottom lip with his thumb and her heart clenched at his words, "So here's another truth." He leaned closer to her and brushed his mouth along the shell of her ear, "Being the King's friend allows you little privileges when it comes to decision making. So, yes. I took the wench, numerous times, but here's another truth." He paused and let his breath fall wetly over her ear before he finished, "All the times, every bloody time," His hand reached down and clasped her clammy hand, effectively pressing it against the solid bulge in his breeches, "I finished for you-…"

"My Lord!" she gasped and he let her remove her hand with a small sigh.

She stared at him in shock, but he continued, "Just so there is no doubt. And lust, my dear Lizzie," He caressed her face with the back of his knuckles and she shivered, her skin prickling with warmth, "is a bloody strong emotion, but not the only one when it comes to you." He allowed his hand to drop from her cheek and he straightened, leaning over to take his cane before he offered his hand to her.

"Your mother will be looking for you." He murmured with unfathomably dark eyes as he waited for her to take his hand.

She took it and while she felt uncharacteristically unsettled by his crude words, she couldn't stop the wild beating of her heart as she recalled his speech over and over again.

His fingers curled over hers and he tugged her to his side, his fingers gently stroking over the skin of her knuckles with something that resembled affection.

"Do you enjoy Shakespeare?" His voice was smooth and gentle as he spoke and the change of subject alleviated some of her nervousness.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur until he spoke into her ear near the entrance of the theatre.

"I shall come for you tomorrow." The words were whispered and she barely had time to speak as he produced a small pocket knife and cut off a lock of her hair. She gasped, but he had pocketed the knife before she could blink. He curled his fingers around the stolen lock of hair and then stormed off, his coat billowing behind him as he disappeared into the crowd of people.

**End of chapter 5**

**Author's note: Thank you for reading! Liked it? Hated it? Let me know with a comment, please! More to come soon!**

***Historical fact: Charles II did take Rochester with him when he visited his mistresses or paid a visit to brothels...Yep. He was that naughty...Lol...Ahem. :D***

**Until next time!**

**Xxx Lina ;o)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Welcome, welcome! I want to thank: whatcatydidnext, dionne dance, MissMisc3, TinkerbellxO, XantheXV, Makrciana, PGAEmma, lottielovebuzz and Newland Archer.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine.**

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**Chapter 6**

_**Women love us for our defects. If we have enough of them, they will forgive us everything, even our gigantic intellects.**_

_**~Oscar Wilde**_

Elizabeth looked up and through her mirror she saw her father. He was leaning against the doorframe, a severe look in his eyes and a glum line on his lips.

"Father." She acknowledged as she picked up a pin and handed it to the maid helping her with her hair. The girl took it and secured another lock at the back of her head in silence.

"Good morning, although I don't think it will be one." Her father replied and Elizabeth frowned a little, but kept her wits about.

"Why ever not? The sun is bright and up. A rare thing here in London." She replied with a small polite smile as she handed the maid another pin.

"Elizabeth, playing the naïve doesn't suit you." He almost snarled and she paused.

"Father whatever are you talking about?" She turned in her seat and the maid followed her movement, keeping her hands on the bun she had so skillfully put together.

"For God's sake, girl! Get out!" Sir John snapped at the maid and the girl jumped, her eyes wide with shock.

Elizabeth inhaled sharply and tried not to seem angry at her father's brutality.

"It's alright, Marge. You are excused." She murmured and the maid bowed her head with an expression of fear and gratefulness before she took her leave.

Sir John stepped aside for the maid to pass through and then turned to his daughter.

"There was no need for that. Scaring the servants off won't make them serve you better, Father. I think you know that." She stood up and her nightgown fell to her feet in silk waves.

"I don't care about the bloody servants, Elizabeth!" He snapped and she folded her hands over her stomach and tilted her head to the side.

"Then what has you in such a sour mood, I wonder…" She murmured and he abruptly moved, walking towards her with quick strides.

"I was informed, daughter, that you were unnecessarily unkind to a member of the peerage. Why, the whole theatre is talking about it."

Elizabeth tensed up. What on earth was he talking about?

"Unkind? Me? To whom? Who is saying these things?"

Her father shook his head at her, disappointment etched on his face. "Lord Sheffield said that you find him lacking and therefore, he sees no reason to court you further."

"Lacking? Me? He was the one who appeared in public with a lady of questionable morals. He was alone and instead of paying me the honor of his company he decided to find his evening amusement elsewhere."

"You still don't understand that a woman must always be polite and available to a gentleman's wishes." Sir John said lowly and Elizabeth raised her chin in defiance.

"I shall be kind and polite to those who earn it. So far, the Earl of Mulgrave hasn't showed any interest in me. He has never asked anything about me, he hasn't talked to me, he hasn't even asked for my opinion in any topic no matter how small and insignificant that might be. I shall not be an ornament for his manor, Father. I am sure you wouldn't want me to end up with a gentleman who has no desire to ever know me intimately."

"It depends on what you mean by _intimately_." Sir John stepped closer and eyed her cruelly, "And I suppose the Earl of Rochester is a far better choice then? He has wit, I shall give him that much, but he is too feeble. He changes his mind so easily and he is not to be trusted."

Elizabeth's stomach clenched at the mention of Rochester.

"And Lord Sheffield is? Allow me the freedom to speak my mind, Father, but no man is expected to behave with sincerity and loyalty. Surely _you_ know better."

"How dare you speak to me like that?" he hissed, "You should be grateful that a man like Lord Sheffield was even interested in a young woman like you!"

Elizabeth flinched back as if hit. "A woman like me? It is a woman like me who has brought you so many suitors! And I am certain that if Lord Rochester had the same amount of gold as Lord Sheffield you wouldn't mind any interactions I might had with him!"

Sir John seemed shocked at his daughter's words.

"Heaven's, child! I swear the Satan has possessed you." He almost gasped and then shook his head, "Don't you understand that you must marry someone who can take care of you?"

Elizabeth smiled bitterly at that, "What does it matter? We all know why these gentlemen really want me. My two thousand pounds a year are too tempting, Father."

"That is why I am pushing you towards the path that will lead you to Lord Sheffield's side." He approached her and touched her shoulders, staring into her eyes, hoping she would see reason, "Lord Sheffield doesn't care about your money or your assets. Please, understand. We all want what's best for you."

"Mother had no money when you married her." Elizabeth whispered and her father tensed up, "Why must my life be different?"

"She was a woman." Sir John started carefully, "I had enough money to pay for her dowry and support her."

"I see…I am afraid Lord Sheffield is far too self-centered to accept that a woman is not just a house ornament. He is _dull_." Elizabeth stepped back and her father's hands dropped from her shoulders, "He doesn't participate in any outdoor pursuits, he gambles and he cannot make a lengthy speech without sounding out of breath. He is not interested in the theatre, or in any form of art. He treats his servants like you treat your dogs and he was impolite enough to stare at a gift another gentleman gave me as a token with the utmost distaste when he himself didn't even bring me a single flower. He has visited three times and he was busy staring at my jewels to notice me." She shook her head while her father stared at her uninterested, "I am sorry, father, but in his case his assets don't mean a thing. I'd rather bear your wrath than accept a marriage to him."

Sir John sighed, "I have no wish to see you unhappy, but I won't sacrifice you in front of the feet of a rogue-…"

"_That man_ is the King's closest friend. Perhaps he sees something in him that you don't."

"I know what you see in him." Her father began, "Handsome face, the tongue of a poet, the hands of sin. But in the future those talents won't seem as exciting and thrilling as they do now. Because you will grow up and you will realize that your heart can no longer bear his deception. Marriages do not need love, Lizzie. They just need trust and respect."

"Marriages do not need money either." She murmured quietly as she turned away from him, her face weary.

"Elizabeth…"

"I won't consent to a marriage to him. I swear that…" she cut him off, "Since it displeases you so much…I care for your opinion no matter what you may think of me." She could hear her father's sigh of relief, but she was not finished.

"But, I won't accept to marry Lord Sheffield either…Nor any of the gentlemen you are trying to push towards me." She turned to gaze out of the window, already feeling the burning in her chest, "So, if you are content with all this, you can arrange for us to return to our home. I no longer see the reason to remain here. We don't want to overstay the King's welcome."

She stopped talking and for a moment there was silence. Her heart thundered while waiting for her father's response and when it came, it crushed all her hopes.

"So be it. You shall write a letter then. _Today_. You will include your decision and you will ask him not to bother you again…Am I clear?" Sir John's voice was firm and unrelenting and Elizabeth gave a faint nod.

Apparently, it was all he needed because he turned on his heels and walked out of her chamber in silence.

Elizabeth gazed at her own reflection and she wanted to laugh at how pathetic she looked. The ink and parchment on her desk taunted her and she gritted her teeth against the feeling of sudden rage that overtook her.

Curling her fists, she reached forward and grasped her heavy expensive brush. She pulled her hand back and then thrust the brush with all her might towards the mirror.

The glass shattered into a million pieces and some of it nicked her hands, face and feet, but she barely felt it.

Only when the maid came to her aid did she let the tears fall.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_A week later, Somerset…_

"Thank you." Elizabeth handed the reins to the stable boy who ducked his head in response, his cheeks flushing with color as he took her mare and gently guided her towards stables.

She smiled and patted the horse's side before she turned towards her house. Her smile fell and she gazed at her feet before she took a deep breath, preparing herself for any new encounter with he father.

She started walking towards the porch, her feet guiding her through the back garden while she tugged off her gloves. She tucked her hair behind her ear and breathed in deeply, the cool air bringing a scent of hope with it.

"Miss! Miss!" Charlotte's voice startled her and she looked up, her eyes widening when she saw the maid running towards her.

"Yes?"

"My lady! Oh my Lady!" She almost wheezed as she leaned forward, gazing at Elizabeth with wide eyes.

"What is it? Did something happen?" Elizabeth placed a hand on the girl's arm in an attempt to calm her down.

"You have a visitor, Miss. He came in just now. All dressed in expensive clothing, bearing gifts. I swear your mother almost had a heart attack, ma'am!" Charlotte blurted out breathlessly.

"Pardon? Who came?" Elizabeth frowned and tried to look beyond Charlotte, but the girl was already pulling her towards the back entrance of the house, excitement written all over her face.

"The Earl! You must change your clothing immediately, miss. I have just brought to your room the beautiful blue dress you bought from London. It will take only a moment-…"

"Charlotte!" Elizabeth cut her off and the maid froze, "What Earl? What are you talking about?"

Charlotte blinked rapidly in confusion, "The handsome one. I swear your parents almost died when he came in with his servant!" she giggled, but Elizabeth was not amused.

"Then I shall see him now." She said and the maid's eyes widened.

"But, my Lady, you're not in proper attire-…"

"I was not informed anyway, Charlotte. Thank you." She tugged her hand from the maid's grip and then passed past her and into the house. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest because she wasn't sure who exactly the visitor was.

The house was awfully silent. The only sounds audible in the air were the noises of the china clanking together.

Elizabeth faltered near the hallway. She peered into the parlor and when she saw a certain gold knobbed walking stick she inhaled sharply. Her hand flew to her mouth and her eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"My Lord. I have to say that I am surprised by your visit." Her father's voice rang in the silent room and she straightened.

"Well, you shouldn't be, Sir John. Surely it is no surprise. But I suppose you'd think I'd have given up by now, no?"

Elizabeth's mouth went dry when she heard his voice. Her breath hitched and her heart started thundering in her chest. She had to place a hand over her chest out of fear.

"Well, I always knew you were headstrong, my Lord. You're famous for it…"

"Oh, yes. One of my many talents. Oh, I nearly forgot." Rochester's voice was smug, but firm, "The King is sending his regards."

"The King?"

"Yes." The word was hissed with venom, "He was rather disappointed at your abrupt disappearance…"

There was a moment of silence and then Sir John spoke up, "Surely he knows that it was not meant as an offence to his majesty's-…"

"My Lord, I am simply the messenger. If you have any doubts then perhaps you should talk with the King himself. I am merely a confidant." The Earl's voice was biting and almost bored and Elizabeth knew that if she didn't step in there would be trouble.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped inside the parlor.

Three pairs of eyes fell upon her and she faltered. Immediately, she was torn between Rochester's sharp, cunning gaze and her father's severe and cold demeanor.

"My Lord." She gave a bow, "Good evening." She straightened and Rochester tilted his head to the side and regarded her with an odd expression.

"My Lady." He murmured and then abruptly stood.

Elizabeth gazed at the carpeted floor as he approached and when his fingers curled around her hand, she froze. His hold was not gentle; it was sharp, strong and unrelenting. He brought her hand to his lips, pressing his mouth against her knuckles in a kiss, but his nails were biting sharply into the tender skin.

She inhaled audibly and then his eyes were on hers. The corner of his mouth curled up in a sly smirk and then he released her.

"I trust your Lordship is well." Elizabeth managed to stutter and he grinned.

"Never better, my Lady." He replied with a smile that almost resembled a sneer.

He was furious. Elizabeth gulped and her eyes flickered to her father.

"Well, my Lord." Sir John stood up, "May we finally know the reason behind your visit?"

Rochester turned to her father, his swift movement elegant, refined and so calm.

"I have come to invite you back to London, Sir John. My mother wishes to meet you." Rochester cocked his head to the left as he waited for a reply.

"How kind." Elizabeth's mother spoke up for the first time and Elizabeth was holding her breath, waiting for her father's response.

"How kind indeed…" He approached the Earl and folded his hands behind his back, "But there is a reason behind this…invitation, yes?"

Rochester smirked and narrowed his eyes, "Surely, nature has gifted you with the talent of straightforwardness, Sir. There is indeed a reason and you ought to know it by now…You are after all the person who has been returning all my correspondence, no?"

Elizabeth's eyes fell on her father with shock. He has been keeping letters from her?

Sir John visibly tensed up, "My Lord, I-…"

"Leave the pleasantries aside, my good sir. We both know that you do not like me." Rochester approached her father and stared down at him, "But that is of no great consequence for me. Personally, I don't care. The only person I like in your family is your daughter." He stepped back and Lady Hawley gasped at his honesty.

"Therefore, I would like permission to court your daughter."

Elizabeth felt her stomach clenching at his words.

Her father looked ready to burst when he replied, "I think you already know my answer, my Lord; especially after spewing such comments about my family."

"Sir," Rochester hissed, "I was polite enough not to mention the comments _you_ have made about _me_. I am ready to ignore them if I am allowed to see Elizabeth." His eyes flickered towards Elizabeth and she shook her head at him, pleading him to understand.

"I fear that I cannot ignore those comments." Sir John approached the Earl, "So, I must decline your offer, my Lord. My daughter can speak for herself and I am sure that she has no objections to my decision."

All eyes turned on her and Elizabeth felt like she was about to suffocate. She twisted her hands together, feeling the sweat on her palms.

She was torn between her father's formidable gaze and Rochester's longing one.

"I…I don't…" Words failed her and she almost swallowed her own tongue in her effort to choke out words.

"Elizabeth…" The Earl's voice was quiet, but neutral. He would never allow himself to beg. She knew that much.

"I…"

_I am sorry. I do want to…_

"Speak, child. The Earl's waiting." Sir John almost spat and she turned her gaze on him.

Her eyes filled with tears and she pressed her lips in a thin line of determination.

She took a step back and gave a small nod of her head, "I am sorry."

With that, she turned and fled the parlor in quick, long strides.

She ignored the voice that called her name.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"My Lady?"

A knock arrived on her chamber door late that night and she sat up.

"Marge?" she whispered as she quickly stood up and walked to her door. She opened it only to see the girl there, a bundle in her arms.

"I am sorry to bother you, my Lady, but this is for you." Marge handed the bundle over and Elizabeth frowned with confusion.

"What is this?" She asked quietly and the maid looked down the corridor before she replied.

"Lord Rochester found me before he left for London, ma'am." She said in a low tone, "He asked me to give you this. He even paid me handsomely for it." Marge stepped back, "Excuse me, but I mustn't be seen! Your father was furious during dinner." She bowed and then walked away.

Elizabeth stared after her and when a sound came from down the hall, she stepped quickly inside.

She shut the door and locked it before she walked over to her bed. She sat down and placed the bundle on the mattress, staring at it.

Taking a quick breath, she reached out and pulled away the smooth cloth. Inside the linen was a book. The binding was expensive; leather. Slowly, she opened it and frowned. It was empty and full of blank, empty pages.

She flipped through it until she arrived at the first page.

_An Angel's Poetry._

That was the title and her eyes widened. She had forgotten that he knew about her flair, but he hadn't…

Abruptly, she shut the book and cradled it to her chest almost fiercely. She shook her head and then eyed the linen cloth.

Frowning, she reached out and fingered the piece of parchment that was resting there. She hadn't noticed it before. She picked it up and slowly unfolded it.

It was a note.

_My dear lady,_

_It seems that like most women, your will can be bent after all…Like iron, which is susceptible to fire and rust. I do not know if it is a talent or a curse, but only a few can match my determination and will. It seems, after all, that my stubbornness is a threat to you… Therefore, I dare you to dig deeper and tear my roots, but the deepest you dig, the faster I will grow. When you are ready to free yourself from the web of lies and misery others have forced upon you, you may contact me in the address below. If you do not have the courage, then I shall employ other ways; ways that I fear that will displease you…Nevertheless, I will use any means at my disposal. _

_Your ever humble servant,_

_Rochester_

**End of chapter 6**

**Author's note: Ahem, thank you for reading… I think most of you know what follows in the next chapter…Don't you? :o)**

**Please review before you go! It's my only payment!**

**Until next time!**

**Xxx Lina :o)**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello, people! Here I am with another chapter! A huge thank you to: deppfan11, MissMisc3, lottielovebuzz, sunny, Newland Archer, XantheXV, TinkerbellxO, PGAEmma, Makrciana, dionne dance and whatcatydidnext. You are all wonderful!**

***I have changed the rating to M for this chapter...***

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

_**Rather what pleasure shou'd I meet**_

_**In my triumphant scorn,**_

_**To see my tyrant at my feet;**_

_**Whil'st taught by her, unmoved I sit**_

_**A tyrant in my turn.**_

_**~John Wilmot (1674)**_

The days passed in peace. Life went back to its normal idleness. Strolls in the garden, enduring the long rainy days of the country, rare horseback riding trips and tedious family dinners and tea parties concluded Elizabeth's life after London. No letters, no visits from peerage members; nothing.

In a way she was glad she was back to her normal life. She had never complained about the way life flowed for her. On the contrary; she hated tragic love stories and big life dramas. They brought nothing but heartache in the end. The root of loss should be torn out before it can expand. And that was exactly what she did.

She endured her father's silent treatment and her mother's disappointed sighs. Elizabeth listened on as she muttered about weddings and planning and all that she had been hoping for before their trip to the city. With each word, she dug a deeper hole in Elizabeth's chest because she knew that she could have all that with a simple word. Instead, she kept her silence and spent hours locked in her room; either reading or knitting fabrics that she doubted she'd ever get to use.

Everything seemed normal until one day in particular. The day a letter from Whitehall arrived with an invitation her father could never refuse. Elizabeth had to pretend once again.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"It's just a pity that I cannot accompany you." Sir John's voice echoed in the parlor as Elizabeth and Lady Hawley fiddled with their long cloaks.

"Knowing you two, you shall once again ruin this opportunity. We need to be close to the King."

"Oh hush, you!"

Elizabeth gazed at her mother blankly, her eyes weary and her lips pressed into a thin line.

"Do not worry. We shall not talk at all. We will simply dine there and be done with it. Won't we, Lizzie?"

Elizabeth gave a sharp nod. "Of course, Mother. I shall only be there to enhance the Great Hall." she replied calmly, "And I won't deny gentlemen's advances this time. I shall dance until my feet are raw. Oh and I won't accept strolls in the garden either. Especially if Lord Sheffield is there." She smiled as complacently as she could, but she knew that the sarcasm was evident in her cool voice.

"Elizabeth, don't forget another certain Earl." Sir John narrowed his eyes as he looked at her with severity.

"That would be impossible." She replied flippantly and her mother gasped.

"Lizzie! We've talked about this before."

"I hope you haven't forgotten how blatantly he insulted your parents upon his visit here. Would you accept a man who has no regard for your family?" Her father's tone was mildly surprised.

"I'd accept anyone who would see me as something more than an object. Does that answer your question, Papa?" She tugged on her gloves and looked at him icily.

"There's no reasoning with you, child. Now be gone. Your grandfather shall meet you there and then he will escort you to your lodgings for the night. Farewell." He turned on his heel and disappeared into his study, his heavy boots thudding loudly on the ground.

"You should know better than provoke him, Lizzie. I am sure that if you had behaved differently he wouldn't have rejected the Earl's generous offer. I still have his various presents on my boudoir."

Elizabeth turned sharply towards her, "I beg your pardon? Did you not return his gifts?" She hissed and her mother hushed her.

"You do not return gifts! Especially the ones given to you by a nobleman."

"That is pathetic. You send the man away, but you keep his offerings? You must return them immediately."

"You're being ridiculous! He'd see it as an offence-…"

"Mother!" Elizabeth cut her off, "Bring them. I shall put them in my purse."

Lady Hawley paused and then scowled, "You and your stubbornness! I shall be out shortly."

She disappeared in a billow of skirts and Elizabeth released a long breath. She turned away, her deep blue cloak flowing at her feet as she felt her lungs constrict with dread. Needing fresh air, she walked out of the house and into the coolness of the morning breeze. Clutching at her stomach, she nodded at the coach driver who returned it with a bright smile.

"Good morrow, my Lady!" He tipped his hat and Elizabeth basked in his wide beam. She needed to see at least one cheerful person.

When the cold became too much for her skin, she slid smoothly into the carriage and waited. She pushed the hood of her cloak back and took a deep breath as she settled onto the squab. A flash of red shone in the morning sun, but she didn't see it. She forgot that she was still wearing her crimson pin and that it didn't match her attire.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Oh my Lord!" Her mother's gasp was enough to make her weary of looking up. Instead, she gently tapped her fingers on her linen napkin. All kinds of food were laid upon the table and the wine was flowing in generous rivulets from the pitchers. Elizabeth had not touched the food, but had tried the wine. The first sip had made her go wide eyed, but the second had been better. By the tenth sip, she was slightly dizzy, but in a nice way. Even her mother's ramblings seemed less obnoxious and she smiled a little.

"Look at that dress! Oh for the love of God! No wonder he's dancing with her. How disgusting. She must be a courtesan." Lady Hawley seemed deep in thought, "What do you-…Lizzie, what on earth are you smiling about?"

Elizabeth looked at her mother, "Pardon? Is it a crime to smile? Look around you! We are all merry!" She pointed at the gentlemen across from her who gazed at her peculiarly before they raised their glasses towards her direction.

"Lizzie! Focus! Now who is that woman?" Her mother nudged her to catch her attention.

"What woman?"  
"The one dancing with Rochester!"

The name brought a surge of combined heat and coldness deep in the pit of her stomach and for a moment she froze, her eyes staring unblinkingly at the couple dancing among the sea of people.

"Elizabeth? Do you know her?"

She blinked and averted her eyes, a fierce blush on her cheeks when she noticed how unashamedly low the Earl's hand was on Ms. Davis' waist.

"That's not a simple courtesan, Mother. It's Ms. Moll Davis, one of the King's mistresses." She replied in a thick voice as she looked up again.

"Oh, yes! I had forgotten about her indeed! Well, they make quite the pair." She noted with a grimace of displeasure.

"I disagree. She looks less refined than he does. If you excuse me." She pushed her chair back and Lady Hawley gaped at her, swiftly catching her wrist in a vice like grip.

"Lizzie! Where are you going? Your grandfather won't approve. It's late-…"

"I need some fresh air." Her eyes were wide and beseeching, but her mother shook her head.

"It's just the wine. Eat something. They have the food you like-…"

"I'll just be a moment."

"Lizzie-…"

"Mother. I need some fresh air." Her voice rose in volume and Lady Hawley quickly released her as if burned.

"Fine. Go before you make a spectacle out of yourself." She hissed and Elizabeth turned on her heel and walked away in a blur of blue skirts.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Are my eyes deceiving me?"

Elizabeth spun around quickly at the voice. Her eyes widened and she bowed her head, leaning forward in a low curtsy.

"Your Majesty." She murmured, keeping her eyes on the ground.

"If it's not the young Lady Malet…Are you here to make my palace more enticing, young lady?" The King reached out and offered her his hand which she quickly took and kissed it quickly.

"You are too kind, Your Majesty." She smiled a little.

"I think not. Johnny, come see who is here."

Elizabeth's smile froze on her lips and she quickly straightened as the King pulled his hand away.

Her eyes clashed with the Earl's brown gaze and for a moment the world started spinning.

"My Lady." He bowed and gently twirled his walking stick between his fingers, his face betraying none of the animosity he had presented her with the last time she had seen him. He looked alarmingly calm and relaxed.

"My Lord Rochester." She inclined her head and then folded her hands in front of her.

"Why are you here all by yourself? I hope you do not feel ashamed of your parents' abrupt leave." The King told her kindly, but she could see curiosity in his dull dark eyes.

"I must apologize to your Majesty. I-…"

"Never fear, child. I shall speak with your grandfather. He has requested an audience with me tonight. But I must insist that you enjoy yourself while at my court. Heavens…" the King trailed off and Elizabeth was sure that her eyes looked too glassy. Color blossomed upon her skin, starting from her collarbones and spreading to her cheeks.

"Johnny, please do something about Ms. Malet's sadness at once. Dance with her. I shall see you both later."

Rochester bowed low and his eyes followed the King's retreating back with intensity until he turned and let his gaze fall on Elizabeth.

She fidgeted where she stood and when he remained silent she made to pass by him. His cane blocked her way and she gasped when he grasped her elbow. His fingers were burning her skin even through her sleeve.

"Stay." The word was murmured and she swallowed hard as she raised her eyes to his face.

"I mustn't."

"But it's the King's pleasure." His lips twitched into his infamous smirk and she looked away.

"Is it?"

The Earl ignored her words and tugged her gently towards the Hall.

"Come."

He led her through the doors and back into the crowd of people. His cane was thrust unceremoniously towards one of the footmen and Elizabeth barely registered the movement.

His hand fell heavy on her lower back and his right one clutched her fingers tightly. His eyes didn't linger on her. Instead, they flickered towards the King's table.

"I daresay your dull eyes could be easily compared with the Queen's. She looks just as glum to be here. Were you forced?" His words were murmured behind his teeth and Elizabeth had to strain her ears in order to hear him.

"Not really, my Lord." She whispered in response and one eyebrow rose in question.

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

He twirled them around sharply and Elizabeth went nearly dizzy.

"How is your health?" The question was sharp and clipped and…odd coming from his lips.

"I am well. I trust you are as well?" She looked up at him, her eyes on his jaw when she realized that he was staring at something beyond her shoulder.

"Your family is glaring at me, Elizabeth. I wonder why…"

She almost fled his arms at those words, but his hand on her waist tightened almost impossibly. His arm was hot and heavy around her and she swore that the heat he was exuding was almost unnatural for a human person.

"I…"

"Are they perhaps mad that you have found yourself in love with me?" His question was almost angry, vibrating with a furious energy that nearly made her knees buckle.

"My Lord." She breathed out, her tone a light scold.

"My Lady." he hissed right back, "You must congratulate yourself that I find myself still enthralled by you." He pulled back, out of her arms only to give her a sharp twirl, "Luckily for you and your family, my desire is far greater than my fury." He dragged her back to him sharply and she groaned softly when she collided with his chest. Her skirts swooshed loudly as he moved them around and she barely had time to keep up with his dexterous pace.

"You're terrible at reining in your anger, my Lord. Everyone has taken notice of our dispute." She almost gasped when he dipped her backwards and then pulled her in tight again.

"And you are a terrible coward, madam." he spat down at her and she froze, "I wonder what kind of scandal it would cause to just simply lean down and steal your lips for just one moment. I am certain that then your family would give me your hand. They wouldn't be able to bear the shame, would they?" His eyes roamed her face and she blinked rapidly.

"You speak dangerously, sir."

"I must act accordingly as well, don't you think?" His fingers hooked on the laces of her dress and he tugged hungrily at them, "I must live up to my reputation, don't you agree? Since you so pathetically refuse to see the truth-…"

"My Lord!" She stomped heavily on his foot and he smirked at the sudden pain, "You know nothing of my truth. Release me at once or I'll scream."

His fingers only weaved further into the laces and she looked around frantically, hoping and praying that no one had seen his bold move.

"Release you? Is that what you desire, my Lady?" He moved his face closer to hers, his lips a breath away from her tightly shut mouth.

"Yes. Someone's going to take notice." She wriggled subtly in his hold, her hand pressing on his taut stomach in an effort to push him away, but he wasn't budging. It was like trying to move a pack of heavy stones.

"You're blushing." His voice was gruff when he spoke and his eyes curious, swimming in the obscure glimmering of his lust and she fought hard not to be entranced by them.

"Of course I am!" she hissed, "We're in public."

"I don't think you care about the public. If you cared you wouldn't be trying to get away. You'd stay still like a proper lady and endure the touch of this rogue-…"

"Rogue or not, you're being cruel!" She grabbed his arm and twisted it away from her body before she pushed herself away from him.

He didn't even stumble and instead of fury she saw amusement. She was overthrown for a moment and all she could do was stare at him in shock.

"Elizabeth," he breathed as he grasped her hand and pulled it to his lips, "I've missed you." He murmured against her skin, his eyes alight with something deep and…dangerous. She allowed him to press his mouth to her palm and then, as quickly as he had touched her, he released her and stepped back.

"How long are you staying?" he asked as he beckoned the footman closer, guiding her subtly away from the dance floor.

"Not long. We're leaving tomorrow…"

He curled his fingers tightly around the handle of his walking stick and smirked.

"I will see you again before the night is over."

With that, he turned and disappeared among the sea of people.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"I cannot believe you let him dance with you! It was so inappropriate after everything!"

Elizabeth gazed outside the carriage window with her mouth firmly shut.

"Daughter, John Wilmot is a member of the peerage. Elizabeth could never deny him her company in public. Stop discussing something that has so little importance. You also judge the King's mistresses and yet you talked with Ms. Davis until I had to drag you away." Her grandfather scolded mildly and Elizabeth for once was glad he intervened.

"Fine…But he was so smug while he had been dancing…He even glared at me! Me!" She snorted in an unladylike manner before she continued, "Did you return his gifts?"

Elizabeth froze. No. No, she hadn't. She had completely forgotten about it the moment she had spotted him.

She simply shook her head in the negative and leaned her head towards her open palm. Her head still felt heavy from all the wine she had consumed.

"Heavens, child. Where is your head?" Her mother exclaimed with exasperation and when the coach shook on the bumpy road Elizabeth winced and closed her eyes.

"Leave her be, Elizabeth. Lizzie is never inappropriate. And don't forget that you were young once yourself. I won't mention the way you behaved every time you saw John." Her grandfather sounded awfully amused and her mother's gasp was too loud in Elizabeth's ears.

Elizabeth looked outside the window as her mother gasped and continued to defend herself.

Elizabeth blocked the voices out. She was too anxious, too ruffled to care about her mother's words. Even as she shifted upon the carriage seat she could still feel the Earl's hand upon her waist. It was as if his fingers had left their mark on her skin. She had yet to get rid of the feeling of his nimble fingertips on the back laces of her dress. Blinking, she shifted further towards the window, burying her face in the hood of her cloak and closing her eyes in an effort to forget. Before she knew it, she had fallen asleep.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Someone was complaining again. Elizabeth stirred when a gloved hand curled around her arm only to pull away a moment later. Her brow furrowed as the muffled voices disturbed her much needed sleep. A sudden breeze blew in and messed up her hair, causing her to shiver. Blinking her eyes open, she was surprised to see that the carriage was empty. She sat up straight and placed a hand on her forehead.

"Mother?" She called and a muffled yelp was her only response.

Realizing that they were not at their lodgings, but simply standing at Charing Cross she tensed up. Her eyes searched around frantically until she realized that the carriage was probably attacked by thieves. Not thinking, she followed the muffled sounds and peered out of the left carriage door. She could see nothing and she quickly slipped back inside. Only that in her hurry she lost her balance. Her foot caught the hem of her heavy dress and she found herself falling backwards and backwards at a fast speed. She cried out in fright, her arms flailing in an effort to catch herself on the coach's seats, but the fall she had been expecting never came. Arms curled around her waist and she yelped as she was pushed against a heavy body. Her savior or possible attacker groaned at the impact, his voice hoarse and gruff, before he tugged her backwards. Her feet scraped the carriage floor and when she opened her mouth to scream, a dirty hand covered her lips. Her eyes widened and she thrashed in the man's hold like a fish that had been dragged with force out of the water. Her heart was beating wildly inside her chest and she could feel herself fighting for breath. It seemed like she couldn't get enough air through her nose and she felt her lungs expand inside her ribcage as if they were ready to explode.

Her eyes could barely see in the semi darkness, but she knew that the sounds she had heard were her mother's yelps. Instinct overtook her again and she tried to free herself by slamming her elbow hard against the man's side. He groaned, but it only succeeded in slowing him down a bit.

"Stop it." The voice commanded harshly as she repeated the movement again, but she didn't obey. Thrusting her elbow hard against the man's ribs she tried to twist her body away, but he was too bulky for her.

"My Lady, stop it!" The voice was exasperated and then she was roughly turned towards the other side. The man knew who she was then. Her fear reached even higher levels and she almost fainted at the countless possibilities.

Suddenly, her eyes encountered another large coach and her knees nearly buckled at the sight of it. A whimper rose deep in her throat and she used her free hand to scratch at the man, but he only groaned and pulled her off her feet. With a curse, he pushed her unceremoniously inside the other coach and she gasped. Her feet hit the edge of the carriage and she cried out in pain. Her body swayed dangerously inside the coach's cabin until another pair of arms curled around her form and pulled her into a warm chest. She visibly jolted when she was pulled over someone's lap.

"Careful, you idiot!" The words were a hiss and Elizabeth pushed her hood back and looked up.

A hand came up to cradle the back of her head, preventing her from seeing him while the man's free hand reached out to pull the coach's door shut.

"Apologies, m'Lord."

The response was muffled because the carriage abruptly started moving.

Breaking out of her shock and mildly aware of the fact that her entire body ached, she looked up. Green eyes collided with brown ones and she let out an undignified squeak of surprise before she thrust herself back and away from the hands that were holding her.

Her backside collided, thankfully, with the squab and her eyes flew out grasp the seat's edges.

"It cannot be." She whispered and the man sitting across from her reached up to push back the black hood of his cloak. Brown locks of hair tumbled down his neck and shoulders and he casually crossed his legs in an almost regal manner. His dark eyes were slightly wrinkled at the corners, a sign of his amusement, though his lips were betraying nothing of said delight.

"You…you…" Her eyes took in his baggy poet's shirt and dark brown breeches, and finally her gaze fell on his expensive black boots. Her mouth went dry.

"Good evening, my Lady." Rochester murmured calmly as if he hadn't just taken her from her coach by force.

"Evening? It is almost midnight!"

"And that is exactly why a young woman such as yourself shouldn't travel during the dark." His nimble fingers reached up and loosened the ties of the cloak from around his neck until it fell loosely around his shoulders.

Elizabeth sputtered, "You…you scared me out of my wits! What have you done? My Lord!" She almost yelped in order to get a response out of him, but he simply fiddled with the golden ring around his little finger.

"Your family is fine. Have no worries. I see that you're still wearing my gift." His voice which was hoarse and low was causing her to shiver. His eyes were unfathomably dark.

"Are you listening to yourself? You…you…"

"You're lovely when flushed." His reply caused her to become more aware of the fierce blush on her cheeks and for a moment she was speechless.

"My Lord…"

"I apologize for frightening you…It was not my intention." The words rolled off his tongue like honeyed poison because his expression betrayed his sinister thoughts.

"Frighten me? I almost fainted…I…thought I was going to be attacked if not raped!" She cursed at herself when she realized that moisture was pooling in her eyes and Rochester frowned a little. Was he drunk?

He leaned forward, "I assure you no one is going to disrespect your honor." He breathed and then his lips curled into a crooked grin, "There will be no rape involved. I find it futile and disgusting." His eyes roamed her form until they came to rest on her bruised ankles.

He reached out ready to touch them through her stockings and she gasped, pulling them out of his reach or at least trying to.

He clicked his tongue and seized them with both hands, his long fingers curling around her thin ankles like shackles.

"Stop it. _Elizabeth_." Her name was hissed and she suddenly became very still. He stared into her eyes for a few moments before he slapped his hand hard against the side of the carriage.

"Drive us to Adderbury and fast." His voice was loud, sharp and confident and Elizabeth suddenly realized his intention.

"No…You cannot do this. You must take me back. Take me back and no one will know. My Lord, I beg you." She whispered and in a flash he was next to her on the seat, his hands on her waist and his face close to hers.

"You worry about me. About my reputation." he murmured huskily and she gazed at him wide eyed, "You do not fear me and yet I could hurt you so easily." His fingers slid teasingly up her side until they were brushing over her heaving chest.

"It'd be so easy to just take what I want…and you'd love it all the same, wouldn't you?"

Her face turned an even darker shade of pink, but she shook her head, "I am not afraid of you. They can have you trialed for this…I…"

"Not afraid of me, are you?" His left hand covered her mouth and she whimpered when his free hand flew down to her leg. His fingers took hold of her heavy skirts and he drew them up around her thighs. His warm fingers trailed up and down her leg until they hooked around her stocking. He pulled the fabric away from her knee only to release it again. He repeated the movement until he groaned and slid the stocking down her leg. His fingers grasped and kneaded her calf and then slipped higher.

Elizabeth watched his face with shock, her entire body numb from his touch and _him_. He smelled of sweet wine and musk and she had to close her eyes for a moment.

Hot, moist lips covered her own and she shuddered at the unexpected sensation. A hand weaved itself deep in her hair, pulling pins and ribbons away with ferocity. The carriage shook and bumped as it rolled over the muddy road and each jolt caused their teeth to clash together almost painfully. His teeth closed around her lower lip and his tongue laved at it in warmth and wetness until his fingers parted her legs. His hand delved between the apex of her thighs and pressed against her with almost needy intent.

Elizabeth grasped at his wrist in an effort to stop him, to pull his hand away, but his teeth came down hard on her plump bottom lip in a stinging bite that had her gasping for breath. His tongue slid into her mouth at her surprised gasp and his fingers found their target, pushing her undergarments aside along with her inhibitions.

She whimpered first and he smirked against her lips as his fingers teased and brushed over her with a playfulness that was only betrayed by his hungry mouth. He curled his fingers around her hair and tugged roughly until she had to crane her neck backwards to avoid discomfort. He released her lips with an audible pop and she gasped, her hand flexing around his wrist and her nails digging into his skin almost painfully.

He groaned at the pain, but he pushed his hand deeper, touching her firmly and skillfully until she had to close her eyes against the feelings that were flooding her veins. Sizzling bliss surged through her entire body and she arched her back and curled the fingers of her free hand around his cloak. He gave a shrug and it pooled on the carriage floor, but he didn't seem to care because his leg slipped between hers, forcing her knee further apart and holding it there as she sunk her fingers in his hair instead. He smirked and then he twisted his wrist, rubbing harder as he latched his lips onto the side of her neck in response.

"My God!" The exclamation caused him to chuckle darkly against her skin and with a last glide of his clever fingers she came apart in his arms. His arm curled around her back and he pulled her to him, pressing her face in the crook of his neck, and after sliding his fingers teasingly over her trembling inner thighs he pulled his hand back, sinking it deeply in her loose hair instead.

"Oh you shall pray, my darling. Soon you shall be praying for more." His voice was low and his breathing equally labored as hers, but Elizabeth was too shocked, too numb with foreign emotions to speak, let alone think about his words.

So, when he gathered her onto his lap and settled her there sideways she didn't object. And when he leaned down and kissed her until she couldn't breathe she only clutched at him more tightly. When his arms closed tight around her, she bit her tongue in order not to make a sound, and as his left hand slid down to caress her thigh rhythmically she gasped, only barely feeling the kiss he pressed on top of her head in poorly disguised reverence. That kiss alone was even more disarming than the pleasure she had just experienced in his wicked arms.

_**She faintly spoke and trembling lay**_

_**For fear he should comply**_

_**But virgins' eyes their hearts betray,**_

_**And give their tongues the lie:**_

_**Thus she who princes had deny'd**_

_**With all their pompous train,**_

_**Was in the lucky minute try'd**_

_**And yielded to a swain.**_

_**~ John Wilmot, Song (1676)**_

**End of chapter 7**

**Author's note: Ahem, still here? Did I make it justice? Just so you know, it is not over yet…Ahem. So, thank you for reading! Comments, please? I really, really need your thoughts…Feed me some love?**

**Oh and the abduction truly did take place in Charing Cross near Whitehall…in May 26, 1665…Just so you know…right! I am off!**

**Until next time!**

**Xxx Lina ;o)**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Hello, darlings! I am back! Sorry for the delay!**

**I want to thank: PGAEmma, lottielovebuzz, Newland Archer, XantheXV, MissMisc3, Makrciana, dionne dance and TinkerbellxO. Thank you all for your support! It's really appreciated.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine.**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

_**Nothing adds to your fond fire,**_

_**More than scorn and cold disdain;**_

_**I to cherish your desire, **_

_**Kindness used but 'twas is vain,**_

_**You insulted on your slave,**_

_**Humble love you soon refused;**_

_**Hope not then a power to have**_

_**Which ingloriously you used.**_

_**~John Wilmot, This the Answer ( before 1677)**_

Her eyes snapped open with a start. She inhaled sharply, her hands already moving along the bedding underneath her. She frowned. Linen and fluffy pillows were under her body and head. A warm breeze was blowing through the open window, but it was dark and she couldn't really see.

For a moment she thought that she was in her own bed in her nightdress, but then she smoothed a hand over her clothed stomach and paused. That was not her nightdress. She was wearing her shift and nothing more. Gulping, she sat up slightly. She was certain that the bed next to her was empty, but she wasn't sure about the room. She could barely see for God's sake!

Clearing her throat and fighting off the embarrassment and fear, she spoke. "Hello?"

No answer. Her voice echoed in the room and she became certain that the room was large and not her own.

"My Lord?" Her voice was loud, but it quivered towards the end and she cursed herself.

Suddenly, a door was opened to her right and she jumped. A feminine face was illuminated by a candle and Elizabeth frowned, her lips parted in surprise.

"Oh, my Lady! You're awake!" The woman's voice was young and high pitched and her face freckled and too thin as she rushed to Elizabeth's side.

"Yes…Where am I?" she asked and the girl blinked.

"You're in Adderbury, madam. My Lord had given specific instructions not to wake you up. So, I stood at the door while you were asleep. Is there anything you need?"

Elizabeth touched her temple and took a deep breath, "No…How long was I asleep?"

The maid blinked rapidly, "Just a couple of hours, madam. Let me make some more light." The petite woman hastily brought more candles and lit them up while Elizabeth looked at the large chamber.

A lot of his clothes were up in hangers and the large shelf was full of books and manuscripts. She had never felt more intimately close to him than at that moment. He had brought her into his own room. Rumor had it that he never spent too much time in his estate. He was either at court or travelling, but at the moment it seemed like all had been mistaken. The room was quite personal. He definitely lived there.

Feeling her face flushing with color, she looked away and paused. The wall across from her was decorated with a large framed painting and Elizabeth was enthralled by it. It was frighteningly beautiful. It was the portrayal of a man, nearly naked, while holding onto something that looked like…a specter in one hand. In his other hand was a knife.

"My Lord Rochester is in his library, madam. Down the hall to the left." The maid spoke up and Elizabeth looked at her.

"Thank you…Um…"

"Emily, my Lady." The maid bowed her head and then she disappeared in a haste.

Elizabeth paused for a moment, indecision eating her up. She could either flee and never find out why he thought that he had to do such a thing, or she could go and see him. Demand explanations. She was certain that her family would be already looking for her and she knew that he would be the first person they'd suspect.

As she stood up, she shivered despite the flush on her face. She walked towards the door barefoot. As soon as she was at the hall, she nervously wrung her hands, her eyes focused on the open door to her left.

She could hear nothing, no sound was disturbing the silence and she almost groaned. Tucking her hair behind her ear, she forced her feet to walk on. She peered into the room and once she saw him she pulled her head back as if struck. She pressed her palm on top of her breast, right above her heart and exhaled quietly. Trying again, her feet brought her inside the library. His desk was facing forward, towards the door, but he had turned his chair around and he was staring at something across from him. It was a sketch. She staggered for a moment, her eyes impossibly wide. His library was…a disaster. Not untidy, but too…crowded with parchment and books.

"How do you like it?" His voice startled her and she looked at him, wide eyed and gaping like a fool.

"I do not understand you, my Lord." She whispered as she took a step closer to his desk. He still did not turn to look at her.

His arms were resting on the armrests and his hands were dangling from the edges. His baggy shirt was untucked from his breeches and half buttoned and the long sleeves were hiding most of his hands; right down to his knuckles. She could see how black his fingertips were. Probably from ink and…

"There is nothing to understand, Elizabeth." He turned his head slightly towards her, "Do you like it?" he repeated his question almost tiredly and she swallowed hard.

"Is it me?"

"Who else?" there was something sharp in his voice. It sounded like incredulity.

"While I was asleep."

"Indeed."

"Its purpose?" She asked mildly and he turned to her then, his movements sharp and abrupt, his eyes so dark that she could barely make out the pupils.

"A reminder…" His tone was harsh, his eyes reminiscent.

She paused, "Of what?"

"Of you in my bed." His response was distracted, for his gaze was trained upon her.

Elizabeth took a tiny step closer, "That's the only memory you want of me?"

His eyes found her face, "It's going to be the last, isn't it?" he murmured and she bit her lip.

"Why?"

He smirked, "Because I'll be caught for abducting the richest heiress of the South." His tone held a smug tone in it. Elizabeth blamed it on his youth.

"You knew you'd be caught?" she whispered and he laughed.

"Of course, my Lady. Do you think me a fool?" He stood up and walked towards her, "And because of my transgression you won't ever wish to see me again." he murmured as he came to stand in front of her, "So, my choices are rather limited."

She didn't step back as his hands came to rest on the neckline of her shift.

"I could either take you back and ask for forgiveness, or…" His fingertips trailed over the tops of her breasts, "I could at least make the experience memorable." He grinned widely, slyly and then his hands were around her waist, lifting her up.

She gasped and her legs found purchase around his slim waist, her hands around his neck as he slammed her hard against the nearest wall. Her breath was knocked out of her at his rough handling and she winced.

"No one is going to forgive you after this." She whispered as his lips latched onto the skin of her jaw and his hips ground hard against her; demanding and confident.

"Good." The reply was a hiss of satisfaction.

"People will talk…They won't like you." She gasped as her fingers threaded into his hair.

"Wonderful." His tongue darted out to touch her slightly sweaty skin.

"They will put you in the Tower." Her words were barely audible as his lips found the corner of her mouth and his tongue slipped in to taste her.

"Gladly." His hands travelled down her sides and grasped her thighs, caressing them, squeezing them; bruising them.

"I won't see you again." She hadn't meant to make that sentence so…pathetic and yet it sounded that way. What was the matter with her?

He pulled back and his eyes locked with hers, bottomless and penetrating. His mouth twitched and for the first time his eyes shone with something else besides desire. Something that she had only seen glimpses of before…Something deeper for a man like him. Her heart swelled inside her chest and her fingers curled around his shoulders as one of his hands reached up to touch her face.

Fingertips moved from her chin and travelled up her mouth, flittingly slipping in between her mouth to stroke along her inner lower lip, before they moved up to her nose. He tapped it gently and he chuckled when she flushed. His hand moved higher and he touched her thin eyebrows, his eyelids heavy as he gazed down at her.

"Yes, you will." He breathed finally and she stared at him, "You will see me." He curled an arm around her waist and pushed away from the wall with his free hand before he cupped the back of her head in his palm.

He turned towards the door and she frowned, ready to speak, but he covered her mouth with his own, cutting her off as he led them blindly back to his chamber. The hall was veiled in darkness and the room was barely illuminated by the few of the candles the maid had lit, but he made it inside with success.

His teeth bit sharply down on her bottom lip, drawing blood and she hissed. He pulled back with an audible little groan and then they were both falling backwards.

Elizabeth cried out when she found herself on top of him on the bed. The mattress dipped and jolted underneath them and his hands fell heavy on her thighs. His wavy hair was draped on the covers underneath him and his long, baggy shirt had ridden up to uncover his belly.

"There is a condition though." He said and she looked at him, her breath short and uneven.

"Condition?" she whispered and his mouth curled upwards seductively.

"You have to marry me, Elizabeth Malet." The words tumbled out of his mouth with the obvious intention of shocking her to compliance because in a flash he had rolled them over until she was on her back, her hands on the covers and her legs around his hips. His face hovered above hers, dark, but bright, inquiring, yet confident, angelic, yet devious. His eyes glimmered wildly in the dull light and yet she thought that despite the little light around them she was blind from the luminance of his gaze alone. She blinked, one, twice and then she swallowed hard.

"You mustn't jest."

His eyes flashed dangerously, "Jest?" he murmured as he slowly leaned down towards her, "I wouldn't dare it. Especially in my limited time. Answer me."

She shook her head, "I cannot."

"Cannot? There is no such word, my love."

"Yes, there is."

His nostrils flared and then he moved, his mouth against hers and his hands on either side of her head.

"You have no faith in me." He stated and she blinked.

"I have no reason to have."

His expression changed and he pulled slightly back, "No reason to? My head is not enough?"

Elizabeth touched his arms and he stiffened, "I never said that, my Lord."

"And yet-…"

"I think there's been some misconception." She cut him off.

"Misconception?" he spat the word and she nodded.

"I think you're under the impression that my refusal was my wish. If you looked better you'd find that it was not."

His smirk when it came caused her skin to prickle. "Such news." His tone was playful, "Is that so? And here I thought that you resented my lack of assets."

His hand grasped her chin, "Do you think me an idiot, Elizabeth? You think I don't know when a woman desires me? Hmm? Let me tell you something, my little dove." He leaned down and her eyes widened in alarm, "You were lost since I first saw you. And forgive the boast, but you have no idea how to handle me…yet. So, why don't I just make something clear?" His fingertips brushed over her lips, "If you think that I took you here so that I can have your maidenhead you're mistaken. I could have done that a lot easier and with a lot less trouble."

The words were not meant to wound, or perhaps they were, but she felt uncomfortable all the same.

"So what is the purpose?" she asked and he smiled, a chuckle breaking free from his throat.

"I wanted to make a point. When I want something I take it and nothing can stop me. My situation has been a good tutor. The best I could have despite my lack of income. What do you think has saved me while among the filth at court? Hmm?" He pecked her nose and then continued, "My determination. It's limitless and in natural abundance." He smirked at her wide eyed expression.

She hesitated, "Is that why you want to marry me? To make a point?"

He frowned down at her and then he rolled away from her. He collapsed onto his back next to her, his left hand upon his stomach and his right one near her hip on the mattress.

"No." His reply came as a whisper, "That is not the reason."

Elizabeth looked at him. His lips were pressed together in what looked like frustration.

"Then what?"

"It's your nature." He murmured, his eyes on the painting across the bed, "It makes me feel little and I need that."

She sat up a little, "I beg your pardon?"

He turned to her, "You see that picture?" he whispered and she gulped before she nodded, "It's Michelangelo's. I got it in Italy…Rome." His eyebrows were knitted together as he stared at the frame, "I feel like that with you. It's like you have skinned me alive. Bared me."

She stared at his profile with bated breath.

"You make me feel inadequate and I need that." He turned to her then, his eyes dark and endless, "I feel low and not because of your three thousand pounds a year."

"Two and half." She corrected almost reflexively and his mouth twitched.

"And even though I know that I'll hurt you anyway," he paused and his fingers moved and curled around her hand, "I have to marry you." He turned onto his side towards her and her heart gave a sharp thud inside her chest, "I can do nothing less. Especially with that look in your lovely eyes." He smirked at her and she averted her eyes.

"No." He grasped her chin, forcing her gaze upwards, "You shall learn to look me in the eye. You shall learn to demand because there's nothing I wouldn't strive to give you."

"My Lord." She murmured, "You speak in riddles."

"Your wit is endless. You will solve them." He slipped closer and brushed his fingers down her cheek, "It's a pity you decided to love me, Elizabeth." He frowned a little and she blinked in confusion.

"You resent my love?" she whispered and his fingertips touched the corner of her eye, his eyes on the light green around her pupils.

"No…I mourn for it." He held her fast when she tried to pull back and sank his fingers in her hair.

"Mourn for it? Why?"

He took a deep breath and with his movement a lock of his hair fell in front of his eyes. She reached up to push it back with a soft hand and his eyes fell on her lips.

"Because it will hold me captive and in the end I will resent it for that." His mouth found hers then and she gave a sharp jolt. Her hand curled around his shirt and she used her fist to push him back.

He released her lips with an audible pop and smirked at the fire in her eyes.

"If you're trying to charm me your attempts are rather poor, not to mention insensitive."

"Women like you mustn't be charmed, my love." He breathed huskily, "Women like you must be conquered. Because you cannot stand lies and disloyalty. Women like you…" he trailed off with an odd look in his eyes, "Women like you are shelters for affection. I consider my success far nobler than any war prize…and far more rewarding."

Elizabeth's breath hitched and she didn't know what to think. Her thoughts were scrambled, her emotions twisted and yet…Yet she could do nothing but gaze at him like a fool as he leaned forward and kissed her clavicle. Despite his loud praise of her wit, she felt like a little child that had no direction whatsoever. When he pressed his cheek against her chest and threaded his fingers through hers, she closed her eyes and tried to regulate her breathing and the wild storm inside her head.

His mouth nuzzled her neck and when his lips touched the tender skin with an openmouthed kiss, she took a deep breath and spoke the most foolish words of her life; words that she would always remember and a reply that should have been an obvious sign of things to come.

"Does this…long and complicated speech mean that the Earl of Rochester loves me?" she asked and she should have been alarmed when he raised his head and grinned at her. His eyes were wrinkled at the corners from his smile and the dark brown a liquid fire. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips and her eyes were drawn to them. His chuckle should have been disappointing and insulting, but then he reached forward, his hands on her hips and his mouth a breath away from her own and gave a small groan.

"My Lady, love is not a word ever associated with you."

Her eyes widened a little.

"Such feeble words. Weak, meaningless and abusive." The warmth of his mouth made her shudder when it touched her own. A flitting kiss and then his hands were moving, pushing underneath her back, curling around her and moving her up towards the pillows.

She allowed to be moved and when she lay securely against him, her head on the pillow and her face pressed against the naked patch of skin of his chest he pulled the covers over her, pressing his lips against the top of her head.

"What is love when compared to pure, unadulterated slavery?" His words were barely audible and with a deep inhalation, he leaned over her and diminished the candles along with her resolve in one single blow. Her arm moved and curled tentatively around his slim waist, her fingers on the soft, slightly perspiring skin underneath.

She was asleep before the smoke of the candles had the chance to dissolve.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

She was woken up by loud voices and horses' hooves. She shot up from the mattress, her eyes wide and unfocused. She was disoriented for a moment, but when her eyes encountered the large painting in front of her, she gasped and looked around her with frantic eyes.

The bed was empty and the room quiet. Jumping from the bed in a manner that would have embarrassed her mother, she went to the window. The driveway was visible and as soon as she gazed down at the two carriages she froze. Men were pushing a willing Earl inside a carriage and they had his hands manacled behind his back. She stumbled back as soon as Rochester's eyes flickered up and locked with hers. He smirked a little and then he was gone from her sight.

Across the driveway, she spotted her father and she turned abruptly away, clutching at her stomach which felt like liquid lava.

She frowned and then looked down. There was something odd about her hand. While it was usually bare now it was adorned with…a ring. Raising her hand up to her eyes, she ignored the approaching footsteps and focused her attention on the heavy ring that had previously not been there.

"My God." She whispered as she looked at the large and well crafted ruby on the golden band.

Among her alarm and dread, a smile broke on her lips and she let out a choked chuckle, clamping her mouth shut with the palm of her hand.

"Elizabeth!"

"Sir John!" Emily's voice shrieked and Elizabeth looked up in time to see her father storming into the Earl's chamber.

Realizing that she was still only in her shift, her cheeks flushed and she took a reflexive step back.

Her father's eyes were wide and his expression twisted. His hands were balled into fists and his skin was flushed with barely suppressed fury.

"I am ashamed of you, child. Get dressed at once." He hissed sharply, his eyes cold before he turned and walked out of the room, pushing the maid aside in his haste to get out of the Earl' room.

The maid stumbled and her eyes turned wide when she looked at Elizabeth.

"Disgrace." Her father's murmured insults echoed in the long corridor and she flushed.

"I apologize, Emily." She murmured as she hurried to get dressed.

"Think nothing of it, my Lady…" The maid reached out and handed her the dress, "My Lady?"

"Yes?" Elizabeth looked up and Emily took a deep breath.

"What will they do to Lord Rochester?" she whispered and Elizabeth paused.

"I …I am not sure."

Emily's eyes were wide, "His mother doesn't know a thing, madam. She is to return tomorrow from her trip to Yorkshire. She will be terribly furious and ashamed. It would bring her some comfort if she were to receive a letter from you…Assuring her subtly that his Lordship did you no harm, madam."

Elizabeth was momentarily surprised by the maid's ardor and she blinked rapidly.

She gave a firm nod, "I shall make sure of it." She said quietly and the maid broke into a smile.

"Thank you, my Lady. Thank you."

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_A few days later…_

The tray of food was deposited gently on her bed side table and she looked up at Charlotte.

"Thank you." She murmured and the maid bowed her head, her features contrite.

Elizabeth gazed at the food with a resigned expression and then reached for the bowl of soup.

Footsteps caused her to stiffen, but she didn't look up. Instead, she dipped the spoon in the thick concoction and brought it to her mouth.

"The ring around your finger won't lessen the disgrace and shame, you know." Sir John's voice boomed and she paused.

Looking up, she locked eyes with her father.

"Indeed."

He pushed away from the wall and stormed towards her.

"You have yet to accuse him, Elizabeth. Don't you plan to file charges against him?" Her father glared down at her and she put the tray of food away.

"Why do you need me to do such a thing? Surely mother saw everything. Her words will be enough." She stood up.

Sir John eyed her with shock, "You have truly lost your mind. I hope the memories of his debauchery will accompany him in the Tower." He turned to walk away.

"There was none involved." She whispered and he paused.

"You truly wish me to believe such a thing? So, why did he abduct you? To make agreeable conversation with you?"

Elizabeth kept her mouth shut and he huffed.

"Foolish child. The King himself ordered his imprisonment and nothing will get him out. Not even that ring you stare at with such passion." He pushed her door open and then eyed her fireplace with a frown.

"That needs to be lit."

She looked up, her eyebrows high, "It's June, father. It's not that chilly-…"

"Haven't you heard?" He muttered and she blinked.

"What?"

He turned around and took a deep breath, "There have been incidents…Incidents of an alarming nature in the city."

"What incidents?" She took a step closer, her brow furrowed.

"Plague, child. _Plague_. Where do you live?"

She curled her fists in fury, "If I hadn't been locked in here I might have known!"

"Do not raise your voice at me." Her father warned her lowly before he pointed it at the hearth, "I will call for the servants to build a fire which must burn _all_ day."

She tried to calm down, "Why would the fire help?"

"It wards off the illness." His reply was short and clipped and then he was gone.

He shut the door and locked it and she was left standing alone in the middle of the room with her fists clenched.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The servant dusted his knees and stood from the ground.

"All done, my Lady. I will be back later to make sure it is still strong, but I have a strong belief that the disease won't reach us." The man bowed his head and before he could leave, Elizabeth grasped his arm.

He was startled and he looked at her with surprise.

"Madam?"

"Mr. Curtis." She murmured, "I need your help."

He blinked, "Anything, my Lady."

She reached into the folds of her skirts, "I need you to send two letters for me."

"Of course."

"But it must be done in secret. I need your discretion." She whispered as she looked at the open door.

"You have it, my Lady." The elder man nodded his head and she smiled.

"Thank you. One is destined for Adderbury and the other…for the Tower of London." She handed the two sealed letters to him and he took them, quickly slipping them into his pocket.

"The Tower?" His eyes widened and she resisted the urge to flush.

"Yes. No one must know." She implored and Mr. Curtis blinked in confusion.

"You mean to help his Grace?" He asked in a mere whisper and she swallowed hard before she replied.

"Yes."

Mr. Curtis eyed her with perplexity, but he didn't object. He nodded his head once and then walked out of her chamber, closing the door behind him.

Elizabeth turned to look at the burning fire while she idly fingered the ring around her pale finger.

"God deliver us…" she whispered before she gazed outside of her window with increasing dread.

_**You that could my heart subdue,**_

_**To new conquest ne're pretend,**_

_**Let your example make me true,**_

_**And of a conquered foe, a friend,**_

_**Then if e're I should complain,**_

_**Of your empire, or my chain,**_

_**Summon all your powerful charms,**_

_**And kill the rebel in your arms.**_

_**~John Wilmot, This the Answer**_

**End of chapter 8**

**Author's note: Still here? I hope you liked it! Let me know, please!**

**Rochester was imprisoned in the Tower of London on May 26 1665.**

**At the time, the Great Plague of London had already started and it killed over 100,000 people. Luckily for him, Rochester was in the Tower and later in the fleet so he was saved from the disease. **

**The burning of fires was really thought to be a way to avoid contamination back then and they usually burned herbs, like pepper and hops, in order to ward off the plague.**

**The painting mentioned is Michelangelo's **_**Last Judgment**_**. It is one of the paintings in the Sistine Chapel. **

**If you want to see the Elizabeth's ring, go to my FB or Tumblr.**

**Anyway, comments?**

**Until next time!**

**Xxx Lina ;o)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: So sorry for the terrible wait! I blame it all on the damn weather!**

**So, before I proceed with the chapter, I want to thank: Newland Archer, Makrciana, whatcatydidnext, XantheXV, lottielovebuzz, MissMisc3, Sunny, TinkerbellxO and dionne dance. You are all awesome for sticking with me!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine.**

* * *

**Chapter 9**

'_**All the privilege that I claim for my own sex is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.'**_

_**~Anne Elliot, Persuasion **_

Elizabeth could only stare through the fogged window. It had been going on for days and she had only been able to watch it from the safety of her own room. Dead bodies, tattered carts that carried them and fearful people afraid of their own breath were the constant scenery around their house. Loss and devastation was everywhere. The plague had spread terror in London and now was slowly moving to the country. The number of deaths had increased and the city had no means to bury its dead. The cemeteries were full and the capacity was at its limits. Families from the country had accepted their beloved ones not with happiness, but with agony. They feared Londoners and their decision to move to the suburbs. They were bringing death with them.

The carts that were now moving through the greenery were filled to the brim with rotting men, women and children of all age. The bodies were barely covered and Elizabeth watched as her father took a step back from their iron door, holding a handkerchief to his mouth while his eyes kept following the long parade of horses that passed by their house.

The dog by Sir John's side barked, but did not move form his side. It was like the animal knew that something horrible was happening and its curiosity was for the moment satisfied. Elizabeth could have sworn that the hound could smell the horrifying odor of death as it passed by their front door.

"Miss?" Charlotte spoke quietly from next to her and she turned to face her trusty maid.

"Yes?"

The girl swallowed hard and dabbed at a few drops of sweat that had gathered on her brow. Elizabeth watched her pale face and turned to face her fully.

"Are you alright?" Elizabeth placed a hand on the girl's arm and Charlotte jolted at the touch.

"I…I can't stand the sight of it, Miss. It's awful." Charlotte whispered as she gently fanned herself with her cloth.

Elizabeth turned to look at the carts and she caught sight of a diseased leg. Quickly looking away, she pushed Charlotte gently away from the window.

"Then don't look outside anymore." She murmured and Charlotte swallowed hard, but followed her lady away from the glass.

"Why are they bringing the bodies here, madam?"

Elizabeth made her sit down and then walked over to make sure that the fire was still burning strong.

"I am afraid they are short on graves." She looked up as she poked at the fire, "The country is vast and they hope to minimize the contamination."

Charlotte dabbed at her brow again, her cheeks too pale and ashen.

"But the infection hasn't stopped a bit!" The maid's voice was high pitched and hoarse, "It keeps spreading, madam. What if it comes here?"

Elizabeth swallowed hard and wiped at her own brow with the back of her hand, "I am not sure how to answer that, Charlotte. Let us pray that it won't."

Charlotte's eyes were wide, "Prayers did not help my cousin, madam! I do not think God will show us any mercy!"

Elizabeth gasped gently. "Hold your tongue, Charlotte. Don't let me hear you speak such blasphemous words ever again." She stood up, "It is late. Go to your room, wash up and try to rest. I won't need you."

Charlotte stood up and nodded, clutching at her handkerchief with white knuckles.

"Yes, madam…I am sorry if I bothered you, Miss Elizabeth. It was not my intention."

"Nonsense." Elizabeth shook her head, "Just do me a favor and ask if there have been any letters or messages for me-…"

"Oh, my lady! I almost forgot!" Charlotte rushed to her side and lowered her voice to a mere whisper, "I have heard your father talking with your grandfather, my lady. There is word that Lord Rochester's mother and the Earl himself have petitioned the King."

Elizabeth's breath hitched, "The King? For the Earl's release from the Tower?"

Charlotte nodded her head, "That is what I heard, madam. But please don't mention this to your parents, madam." The maid's eyes were wide, "Sir John won't like it that I talk to you about such matters."

Elizabeth patted Charlotte's hand, "Don't worry. Thank you."

The maid curtsied and then excused herself, walking out of Elizabeth's chamber and leaving her with her thoughts.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"They are digging pits beyond the hills for the dead. How can you say that it is safe here?"

Elizabeth heard her mother's voice as she arrived onto the last step of the stairs.

"Elizabeth, calm yourself." Sir John's voice was firm and severe, but it did nothing to calm Lady Hawley.

"How can I calm down? The King himself plans to leave London for Salisbury as soon as possible."

"He is the King of England! Of course he will run away for his safety. Don't be ridiculous. We are already in the country and we're taking every possible mean of precaution."

Elizabeth stepped into view and Sir John paused.

"Ah, you have decided to grace us with your presence?" He cocked an eyebrow and Elizabeth tried not to flinch. She also did not mention that she had been ordered to stay confined in her chamber since her return from Adderbury. That was nearly a fortnight ago.

"John." Lady Hawley shook her head and looked upon her lap with distress.

"I saw they are bringing more…dead." Elizabeth gazed outside the window, her hands curled around her skirts.

Her father's gaze was settled upon the ring on her finger and then he suddenly rolled his eyes.

"Indeed. The number of deaths is escalating by the day-…"

"No one escapes the Black Death-…"

"Elizabeth!" Sir John's voice was a bark as he turned to look at his scared wife, "Control your abominating fear! It doesn't help at all."

Lady Hawley hiccupped and covered her mouth with a handkerchief before she looked out of the window.

"I have told the servants to wash up with vinegar…They say it helps to prevent the infection." Elizabeth said quietly as she took a seat close to her mother.

"Very clever, child." Sir John nodded his head, "But that is not why you're here."

"You've been keeping letters from me, haven't you?" She accused and her mother stopped whimpering in fear to look at her husband instead.

"He surely has not." She informed her daughter, her eyes slightly more serious and sober now, "Have you, John?" She turned her light gaze on her husband who stared at his wife before he spoke.

"No, I have not, child."

Elizabeth frowned, "You have not?"

"Indeed, I have not. Why would I do such a thing? After everything, do you really think that I would stop any step towards the recovery of your honor?" He smiled a sardonic smile, "I won't. If the Earl still wants to marry you, after he is released, then he is welcome to have you." He paused and Elizabeth watched the irony dancing in her father's eyes, "If he still wants to…after everything that transpired then... If my calculations are correct, he won't. He's gotten what he wanted, is it not so?"

"John! How dare you? Elizabeth swore that nothing happened." Lady Hawley looked anxiously at her daughter, watching the sadness dancing in her child's eyes, "Stop it at once."

Sir John glared at his wife, "You're too soft, woman!"

"What is done is done. My only hope is that a marriage will occur as soon as possible."

"Is that so?" Sir John cocked an eyebrow, "I have received news from the Earl of Mulgrave."

Elizabeth tensed up, "The Earl of Mulgrave?"

"Lord Sheffield?" Her mother's tone was enthusiastic, "What for?"

Sir John stood up and went to poke at the fire. The smoke was burning Elizabeth's nostrils and she leaned slightly back.

"He is leaving London and before he arrives at his estate in the country he has asked request to pay us a visit." Sir John turned towards his daughter, "After our daughter's infamous escapades, suitors have been lining up in our doorstep."

Lady Hawley gasped, "My God."

"Our little Lizzie has acquired the fame of a seductress and more men are interested in asking for her hand."

"Outrageous." Lady Hawley curled her lip a little, "Why did you agree to welcome him here?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "So now they think my morals have loosened? Am I more interesting now? Please, father. One look at me and Lord Sheffield will recall why he didn't really fancy me."

Sir John smirked a little, "So, let him know. Your escalating fame will bring us luck."

Elizabeth paused and then she quirked an eyebrow, "You mean it will bring you a higher dowry."

Lady Hawley gasped, "John! Our daughter is not for sale!"

"She should have thought of that before following Court's most foul Lord into sin."

Elizabeth stood up abruptly, "It seems to me that you are not that different from the men you accuse of lechery."

Sir John's eyes narrowed, but Elizabeth turned away, "I shall be in the garden with Charlotte."

Lady Hawley shot up form her seat in panic, "Do not go outside! The odor is everywhere!" She ran after her daughter, "Lizzie! Come back at once!"

Elizabeth continued walking away and her mother kept trailing behind her.

"What are you going to do outside anyway?" Lady Hawley almost screeched as they passed through the kitchen, ignoring the cook and servant that were working there for their dinner.

"Help with laundry."

"Laundry? You shall ruin your hands!" Her mother called as Elizabeth opened the back door and stepped out, "Lizzie! You must not breathe in the odors! Carts are still passing by! Lizzie!"

Elizabeth stopped and whirled around to face the distressed woman, "Mother, Londoners are leaving the city to come here. It's all about the air." She outstretched her arms wide, but her mother was not convinced.

"Not this air! Fetch the carriage and take a walk in the woods-…"

"I'd rather help her." She jerked her head towards Charlotte's direction. The girl was laboring with the huge baskets of laundry.

"Do you know that sweating is good? It purges the infections from our system. It's all in the medical journal you keep by your side all the time." She rolled up her sleeves and without another word she turned and headed for the maid.

Lady Hawley watched with wide eyes, not daring to walk out of the house. With fear, she abruptly shut the door and turned to the servants.

"Once my daughter is back, draw her a very hot bath. Do not forget. Am I clear?" Her eyes went to the fireplace, "And build a bigger fire for God's sake!" She walked out hurriedly and the cook exchanged looks with Mr. Curtis. The man sighed and did as he was bidden.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Madam?"

Elizabeth pulled her head out of the water as the washroom door creaked open and Charlotte peered inside.

"Yes?" She pushed water away from her eyes as the maid blinked drowsily at her.

"Your father's guest has arrived Miss."

Elizabeth's eyebrows went up, "So soon?"

"Yes, madam. Your father requests your presence immediately."

"Alright. Ask Mary not to bring me my dinner now then."

"Yes, madam-…"

"Charlotte?"

The maid looked up, "Miss?"

"Rest. You look pale." Elizabeth's eyes roamed the girl's countenance with worry.

"We have a guest, madam."

"Rest. Mary and Mr. Curtis can help with dinner. Help the cook in the kitchen if you must, but stop running about for tonight."

Charlotte flushed, "Thank you, madam. Thank you."

The door closed behind her with a soft click and Elizabeth emerged from the tub quickly. She had to make herself presentable.

When she appeared in the dining room her hair was still wet, but her clothes were immaculate and proper.

_For a country lady… In his eyes at least_. She thought bitterly as she locked eyes with Lord Sheffield.

"Good evening." She bowed low as the Earl stood and approached her.

"Lovely to see you again, Miss Malet." Her hand was seized and she looked up as he brought her knuckles to his mouth. She shuddered in disgust. She could see the change in him already and her wet hair did nothing to add to the image of her virgin disposition. She could see it.

"Likewise, my Lord. Welcome." She pulled her hand back, but lingered when his eyes fell upon the irremovable ring around her finger.

Clearing his throat, he guided her to her seat and sat back down himself.

"How was your journey, my Lord?" Sir John asked politely as the servant man poured wine in their glasses.

Elizabeth stared intently at her cutlery. She could smell the scent of vinegar.

"Tiresome…and gruesome. The Black Death is clouding London's sky like a menace, I fear. No one is safe." Lord Sheffield's voice was strained and Elizabeth looked at him.

"Indeed." Elizabeth murmured and her mother hurriedly spoke.

"What are the means taken in the city?" she asked and the Earl shrugged softly.

"The same as here, madam. There is nothing more we can do. The doctors' fears for an epidemic crisis are materializing themselves in the worst way possible. The London streets are filled to the brim with sick citizens. The King no longer goes out and all the theatres have been closed for the summer. The actors have fled the city and I wouldn't be surprised if some bigoted playwright made an entire tragedy out of this for the new season."

Elizabeth frowned, "I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I do not think the plague will leave us any time soon." She looked at him, "Who would return to London in the fall for a play after such dismay?"

"You'd be surprised, my Lady." He murmured as he stared at her intently.

Breaking away from his gaze, she took a small sip of water.

"Any news from the King?" Sir John questioned, taking a sip from his wine.

"Yes, he will be moving to Salisbury very soon, Sir John. After…some business he needs to take care of. Regarding the Dutch." At that his gaze flickered towards Elizabeth who looked back blankly.

"The best he can do is leave the city immediately!" Lady Hawley quipped.

"Really?" Elizabeth leaned back as the servant and maid brought out the soup, "What about the rest of the people?" She looked up at her mother, "What happens to them?"

"What do you think should happen, Miss?" Lord Sheffield asked and she turned to face him.

"I think the state should take precautions for all people. Help move them to the suburbs instead of abandoning them to their fate."

"Would you help, madam?"

"I would if I could." She nodded her head, "The city will be left on its own. No governance whatsoever and the people will end up dying in the streets. The crown should protect them, not abandon them. There will be no people to govern even if the King survives." She felt her father's hot glare, but she ignored it.

"You do not fear for the King's safety."

"Now, my Lord." She looked up saucily, "Kings will come, kings will go. But what will they govern? The peerage?" She cocked an eyebrow and the Earl of Mulgrave was forced into silence.

"As we are on that matter, I think a certain member has been rather lucky." He pointed out with a little smirk and Elizabeth smiled.

"Worse people are roaming this land. Why not save one who is at least honest?"

"Lizzie!" Lady Hawley exclaimed and Lord Sheffield chuckled.

"Please, madam. The lady is right, of course. The Earl of Rochester must have some qualities since he has enticed your beautiful daughter. Calm yourself. I take no offence from youth's excitement."

Elizabeth bristled, but smiled. "Thank you, my Lord."

"You're welcome." The Earl's gaze held something odd and Elizabeth was certain that fury was one of the emotions swimming in his hard eyes.

"You shall stay the night, of course?" Sir John cleared his throat, changing the subject.

"If I am welcome."

"You are, my Lord." Lady Hawley smiled, "Mary, fetch Charlotte and tell her to prepare a guestroom."

Mary bowed, "Charlotte is indisposed, madam."

"Indisposed?"

"I sent her to rest. She was too tired." Elizabeth spoke up and her mother glared at her.

"Lizzie…"

"Elizabeth," Sir John cut in, "Lizzie knows what she's doing. Prepare a room." He looked at Mary who curtsied and walked out of the room.

Lady Hawley shook her head at her daughter, but did not interfere.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_July 1665…_

"Charlotte, have you seen Mary?" Elizabeth peered inside the washroom.

The maid looked up, "No, madam…I haven't seen her since yesterday…Do you need something?"

Elizabeth held a handkerchief to her brow and shook her head, "I am worried…She's always the first to wake up."

Charlotte wiped her hands on her white smock before she reached up to fix her cap.

"I know, my Lady…Shall I ask Mr. Curtis to look for her? Perhaps Lady Hawley sent her on an errand?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "My mother is the reason I am asking in the first place. She's been asking for her…Never mind…Thank you." Elizabeth smiled before she walked away.

Her feet carried her to the kitchen and a hand on her wrist caused her to jump.

"Oh! Mr. Curtis." She smiled.

He smiled back and looked around before he pressed a cup of tea in her hands. In the napkin that accompanied it there was a piece of parchment.

"For your stomach." He bowed and she watched as he walked away.

Moving surreptitiously towards the small drawing room down the hall, she tightened her hold on the napkin.

As she entered the too warm room, she shut the door and placed the cup on the desk. Unfolding the napkin, she pulled out the message. The words were written in elegant handwriting. Looking at the foot of the message she saw the location.

_July 21, Adderbury, Oxfordshire_

With wide eyes she skimmed though the words, her heart slowing down with relief.

_Dear Miss Malet,_

_I apologize in advance for the shortness of this letter. My household is in an uproar. Two of my servants have passed away from the Black Death and my worries can only increase now that my son is back to our estate. I cannot thank you enough for the words of support and I shall make sure that the Earl of Rochester keeps every promise he has ever made to you. My son is free and because of your kindness, he is safe. He was released from the Tower on the 19__th__ of this very month. I had the desire to let you know so your mind can be at ease during these hard times. The plague has made any possible way of contacting you otherwise impossible and I ask you to excuse the lack of time._

_I wish you health. May the Lord keep you safe, child._

_Anne Wilmot, Countess of Rochester_

_July 21, August, Adderbury_

Elizabeth folded the letter back up and slipped it into the pocket of her heavy skirts. Taking a small sip from her teacup, she gazed outside of the window and her eyes hardened at the sight of two carriages. They were heading towards their driveway. Turning on her heel, and with her mind already working for the composition of a reply, she headed towards the parlor, ready to receive her father's newest _friends_.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The back garden was dark. The night smell heavily of rain and tiny droplets were already falling on her cheeks as she walked clad in her shift and heavy robe. The candle in her hand was getting wet and the flame kept flickering precariously, but she did not mind. She was glad to be out of the house and the only way to achieve it was to slip out after midnight. The gatekeeper was soundly asleep in his chair and the large hound dog was waggling its tail happily at the sight of Elizabeth.

Smiling and ignoring her father's warning not to touch animals, she leaned down and petted the large dog behind its ears. The fur was smooth and slightly wet and she chuckled.

"Come on, you big bear." She grabbed hold of the dog's leather collar and guided him towards the back porch.

"Stay." She ordered and the hound gave a bark before settling down, its dark eyes watching every move Elizabeth made towards the trees.

Sighing with irritation at the flickering flame, she was ready to blow it out when something caught her attention.

She stepped towards the dark shadow by the corner of the back porch. Shakily and with trembling knees, she brought the candle forth.

A loud scream escaped her wide mouth, the candle slipping from her grasp to fall onto the wet ground with a resonating thud.

The hound shot up and started barking loudly, rushing towards Elizabeth's direction, its ears strained and its tail high.

Mary's wide eyes were staring right back at Elizabeth, her mouth was slack and decayed. The maid's skin was distorted and filled with sores. Mary's hands were blackened and curled limply around the fabric of her filthy nightdress.

"Necrosis." She whispered as the dog kept barking loudly, but never approaching the corpse.

Stumbling backwards, Elizabeth's gag reflex was tested when flies started buzzing around the corpse. Clamping a hand over her mouth to prevent another scream, she lurched to the side, filled with frantic need to leave, but at the same time incapable of pulling her eyes away from the body.

The hound whimpered and its tail brushed Elizabeth's feet, causing her to yell loudly in fright at the unexpected touch.

Her body started falling backwards, but then hands stopped her fall. Fingers curled around her waist before a forearm snaked around her stomach. A palm clamped over her eyes and the person holding her pulled her off her feet and whirled her around and away from the terrifying sight. The hound's barking resumed, but it was hushed sharply by her captor.

Another scream broke free from her lips, but then familiar lips brushed her ear.

"Hush."

The voice crooning into her ear brought a shiver up her spine and she hiccupped as tears started falling from her eyes. The hand keeping her eyes closed pulled away and settled around her chest instead.

"Elizabeth." Her name was breathed into her ear before she was whirled around.

The arms curved around her back, pulling her to his chest and she pressed her face against his shoulder.

Tremors rushed through her body and Rochester gritted his teeth as his eyes flickered momentarily towards the rotting corpse.

"How long has it been there?" He questioned as her hands clutched at his overcoat, "Elizabeth!"

She shook her head, "I am not sure…She'd been gone for a few days…We should call a doctor-…"

"Dear heart, she's dead."

"What if-…"

"She is _dead_. She must be moved and her belongings must be burned." Pushing her slightly away he stormed towards the sleeping gatekeeper, his lips curled in disgust as he shook the man awake.

The keeper shot up and at the sight of Rochester, he gulped.

"Me Lord."

"Inform your masters. There is a corpse rotting back there. Be quick, I say!"

The man scurried away with remarkable speed and Elizabeth was in the process of petting the dog, her eyes wide.

"Get away from the mutt! God's sakes!" His hand curled around her arm and biting fingers dug in her skin as he hauled her away from the animal.

"There is a corpse! Why should I worry about the dog?"

Rochester pulled her farther away, "Because the woman was obviously bitten by fleas!"

"Jack has no fleas! He's my father's hound. He's checked every day-…" she paused when she suddenly realized who she was speaking with, "How…how did you get here?" she whispered as she gazed into his scorching brown eyes.

The Earl's lips twitched and he opened his mouth to speak, but he was cut off.

"Lord Rochester! What on earth are you doing here? My God!" Sir John stumbled backwards at the sight of the corpse.

"Lord Almighty." Lady Hawley took a step back, covering her mouth and nose with her hands.

"It must be burned at once." Rochester walked towards Elizabeth's father.

Sir John turned to him, "This is not a proper calling hour." He narrowed his eyes as the servant and gatekeeper started covering the body with large cloths.

"Indeed. I was delayed and I arrived late." Rochester picked up his walking stick from the ground where it had fallen earlier and leaned against it.

Sir John gazed at his daughter who was staring at them distraught.

"I would imagine why you'd want to pay us a visit. You're joining the Fleet." He said and Rochester blinked calmly while Elizabeth's eyes widened.

Her gaze fell on Rochester who briefly glanced at her.

"Indeed."

"Under the King's command." Sir John narrowed his eyes in mock contemplation.

"Of course. I shall always obey the King's wishes…Even if I don't like his cowardice way of reacting to the Black Death."

"Ah yes." Sir John looked at the servants, "Take it to the back, away from the garden and burn it-…"

"There should be a proper burial!" Elizabeth whispered enraged, "We're not savages! We do not burn our dead-…"

"Lizzie." Her mother muttered sharply.

"Father."

Sir John held a hand up, "She was too close to us. It must be this way."

"What about her family? They ought to know-…"

"Her parents are dead. The news came in yesterday." Her father cut her off and she was stunned into silence.

"So, my Lord." Sir John turned to their unlikely guest, "There was a price for your freedom."

Rochester stepped forward and leaned closer to Mr. Malet, "There is always a price to be paid, my good sir. Surely, you know that." He smiled sardonically and then pulled back, "Now, if I may request a moment with Ms. Malet." He straightened and smiled charmingly, "Only a moment."

Sir John glared at his daughter upon noticing her attire, but spoke nonetheless.

"You may…Although how did you plan to see her in the first place?" he murmured and the Earl chuckled amusedly.

"By climbing to her window of course. I wouldn't want to rouse the entire manor." He stepped back, "Oh and Sir John, my household has suffered two deaths from the Black Death already. I'd advise you to be more careful with your household staff. No one should be exposed to fleas." Rochester's gaze fell on the dog that was happily standing beside Elizabeth, "And I would make sure to get rid of dogs. At once."

He walked to Elizabeth and took her hand, pulling her towards the trees and away from the porch.

Sir John's gaze fell sorrowfully upon his loyal dog, but he curled his fists nonetheless before he walked away, dragging his wife along.

Pushing her behind a large tree trunk, Rochester pressed his lips hard against hers, his hands resting heavily on her waist as his tongue entered her mouth with hunger.

Her hands clasped at his shoulders and she hissed when the handle of his cane bit into the soft flesh above her hip.

"I cannot stay." He moaned deliriously as he snaked an arm around her and pulled her into his body, molding her soft curves against his lithe form. His fingers played with her robe and he pressed his forehead against hers as he gently reached out to finger the ring around her finger. He smirked, but then faltered.

Noticing the tear stains on her cheeks, he grimaced and slipped a hand into his inner pocket.

Touching his moist lips to her forehead, he pressed a vial into her palm and wrapped her fingers around it.

"Drink this once a day. It's the King's concoction against the Plague. If you run out of it, write to my mother. She will provide you with it. Do not touch animals again." His fingers tugged at the neckline of her robe, covering her collarbone more.

"Cover up at all times no matter how much you sweat." His lips found hers again.

"The King supplies you with medicine…I thought-…"

"That he resented me. No, my love. I am his favorite Earl." He chuckled huskily and bit his lip as he slid his hand below her waist, "Kings must do what they must." He groaned as his palm covered her buttock and pressed her to him.

"Write to me." He smirked before he abruptly released her and stepped back.

"Will you?" she challenged and he threw his head back and laughed, thrumming the walking stick against his thigh before he smirked.

"Write to me." he repeated and she inhaled sharply when his thumb brushed across her lower lip, "Will you do this favor to your abductor?" he breathed while his eyes glimmered lasciviously.

Flushing, she gently smacked his hand away and nodded, "If I survive you shall hear from me, my Lord."

A frown creased his forehead and a shadow passed over his eyes at her words, but it was gone before she could decipher it.

Bowing low, he smirked, "My Lady." He straightened before he brought his fingers to his mouth. Whistling and looking as if not having just witnessed a decaying corpse, he mounted the approaching horse and galloped into the darkness.

Elizabeth remained there staring after him with her hand closed tightly around the glass vial. The night was lighted with flames on the far right side of the manor and she bit the inside of her cheek when she realized how much close to death they were. Mary was already burning and soon…Soon, Jack would-…

Behind her, the loud shot echoed in the darkness. Her father's hound was dead.

**End of chapter 9**

**Author's note: Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. Everything mentioned in this chapter is accurate. The King moving to Salisbury for his safety, Rochester's release from the Tower on the 19****th**** of July in 1665, him joining the Fleet against the Dutch and the fact that all theatres were closed because of the Great Plague (a.k.a Black Death). A lot of suitors had also wanted Elizabeth's hand after her abduction, but she had declined every offer made to her by them. **

**Also, the plague was carried by fleas. If bitten the person died in 2 to 5 days because of the infection…*shudders***

**So, comments, please? I hope the chapter made up for all the wait!**

**Until next time!**

**Xxx Lina :D**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: Welcome back. Apologies for the long wait…Couldn't be helped.**

**An enormous thank you to: Makrciana, Bryan Cranston, MissMisc3, XantheXV, TinkerbellxO and dionne dance. You are all wonderful for sticking with me in this!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine.**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

'_**Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them.'**_

_**~ Henry David Thoreau**_

_September 5, 1665_

She stepped outside. The heady scent of smoke and herbs was still prominent in the air. She could feel the smell burning her nostrils, she could feel her gown getting stained by the ashes and she turned her head towards the open field right next to the estate. Workers were hard at work in burning everything that was left of their beloved ones. Clothes, rugs, shoes, bed coverings that had been used way too much; even straw mattresses. The plague had been cruel, leaving very few families untouched even in the North.

Threading her fingers, she rested them on top of her stomach, her eyes still not moving away from the tearstained face of a mother who proceeded to throw a tattered ragdoll into the flames. The woman pulled back while wiping her eyes on her apron. Elizabeth watched as the woman's husband- Mr. Nichols worked for her father in their land-wrapped an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. Their child was no older than ten when she had been snatched away from them because of the sickness.

A small body disturbed her heavy skirt and she looked down at the puppy who had only recently replaced her father's dead hound. Elizabeth took the opportunity to face away from the heart wrenching scene and reached down to pet the animal, giving him a good caress behind his ears.

"Fancy a walk, Jack?" she whispered down and the hound wiggled his tail wildly before he started running around her in circles. Laughing, she raised her hands up.

"Fine, fine. Come on. Shall we?" She started walking and the four-month old puppy followed her with enthusiasm. She couldn't say she blamed the poor thing. Her father was in no mood for outdoor activities lately. Her family, herself included, hadn't been out of their estate for months. They were all living in fear and she suspected that the situation wouldn't change in quite a while.

Jack ran ahead of her and she watched as he chased away one of the cats her mother kept around the house for protection against rats.

Stifling a laugh and realizing that she hadn't laughed in weeks, she clamped a hand over her mouth. She shouldn't laugh when such tragedy was still around them. True, the disease was slowly receding, the victims were fewer and the deaths were slowly, but gradually declining, but still. The danger was still hovering above their heads, looming and waiting to strike against weak people.

"Lizzie!"

She stopped and winced, waiting for the reprimand, but it never came. All she heard next was her mother's enthusiastic voice.

"Lizzie! There's a package for you!"

Pausing, she slowly turned around only to see Lady Hawley walking hurriedly towards her, a package in her hand.

Jack barked and started running towards Lady Hawley, misinterpreting her excitement as desire to play with him, but Elizabeth managed to catch him and loop his leash around his collar.

Lady Hawley gasped and stumbled back a little, "Oh, the little beast will be the death of me." she exclaimed breathlessly and Elizabeth allowed herself to roll her eyes.

"He is just a puppy. He's completely harmless."

Lady Hawley wrinkled her nose, "For now. Then he will be leaving his hair everywhere and-…Oh, my Lord. Your gown is full of hair. Disgrace." She shook her head, but Elizabeth was more interested in the package in her mother's hands.

"Is that for me then?"

Lady Hawley smiled, "Oh, yes! Adderbury has been most kind to us. Open it, Lizzie. Let's see what is inside."

Elizabeth looped Jack's leash around her wrist and then took the package from her mother.

Turning towards a stone bench that was on her right, she sat down and her mother followed her, conscious of the dog that made his perch on her daughter's feet.

Undoing the string, she let the plain dark paper fall on her lap. She opened the box and Lady Hawley exhaled with relief.

"More of the medicine! I swear the Countess must be a saint."

Elizabeth allowed her mother to take one of the bottles, but she was more interested in the letter that lay inside. Before she had the chance to reach for it, her mother snatched it and started opening it.

"Mother!" she exclaimed with shock, but Lady Hawley only waved her anger away.

"It's from the Countess. Not the Earl." She muttered and then paused, "While we are in this conversation, you have written him countless of letters. Have you received a reply?"

Elizabeth stiffened at that, "I imagine travelling upon a warship is not as easy as we might think. I don't even know if the letters have reached him-…"

"Ah, nonsense! It's the King's Fleet. How do they keep contact with the crown? Just admit that the Earl is more uncouth and even more reckless than you have expected." Her mother didn't look at her as she read the letter.

Elizabeth swallowed hard, ignoring how painful it was to pretend that the lack of responses didn't bother her. She was not quick to judge others though, unlike her mother who seemed to do only that.

"Well, Lizzie…" Lady Hawley started speaking in a hesitant tone, "The Countess is asking for our company in a few days." She looked down at her daughter, 'The King is returning to Whitehall and so is her son. She has acquired an official invite for us."

Elizabeth gasped, "London? The King is back?"

"Hmm, indeed. What is the matter? You have been loud in your protestations against him. Now he is back to Court to encourage his people to have faith." Lady Hawley folded up the letter and put it in her skirt pocket, "The plague has been a very harsh lesson for all of us."

"What kind of lesson, mother?"

Lady Hawley took a deep breath, "That our lives are not eternal. We are truly dependent on God's will. Your Lord must do well to remember that now that he will make it back home safe."

Elizabeth stood up, "I cannot disagree." She nodded her head and her mother smiled, "But the King must not pollute God's name with his tongue. He is not free of transgressions against him." She stepped back and tugged on Jack's leash, "You should compose a reply then, yes?" She left the package behind and slowly made her way inside, feeling her heart beating numbly inside her chest.

"Lizzie! Get back here!"

"I am not sure Papa will agree to follow us to London-…"

"That's just nonsense! It's the King's command."

Elizabeth nodded her head, "Sometimes I wonder if _everything_ is the King's command." Her words however, were lost among the wind and smoke the farther she walked and her mother's response was lost in them as well.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"Finally! Oh dear Lord. This was a stroll in hell's paths." Lady Hawley pressed her handkerchief against her nose and mouth as they walked towards the Great Hall. Elizabeth followed closely behind her and tried to keep her hands from curling around her skirt.

"Does it not bother you that Papa didn't come?" she asked and Lady Hawley paused.

"No. Unfortunately, Lizzie, your father doesn't recognize generosity when he sees it." She resumed walking and Elizabeth frowned.

"I beg your pardon? Generosity?"

"Of course!" Lady Hawley huffed, "He is ignorant."

"Of what exactly?"

Lady Hawley paused to curtsy in front of a Lord and Elizabeth copied her before she resumed her walk.

"The countess was most generous during this dreadful summer. I do seriously maintain my belief that we survived because of her weekly packages."

"You forget who gave the order." Elizabeth whispered in her ear as music started evading their senses.

Music seemed so ludicrous at times like these.

"I do not forget that. But, Lizzie, I do seriously doubt his ardor. It's been months."

"Mother-…"

"I know that he couldn't leave you so bare after committing such a crime against our family. You do realize how reluctant I am to allow you to be in public venues at the moment, no?"

Her mother's eyes were sharp and Elizabeth felt her face heating up.

"Nothing really passed between us-…"

"Now that is very fat lie, Lizzie." Lady Hawley leaned closer, "Do not speak unless addressed. It's a miracle we can show our faces after the disgrace his Lordship thrust upon us."

Elizabeth bristled, "I know he is not a kind man. I know that. You must not remind me that my affections might not even be reciprocated. Even the fact that he gave me this," She presented her mother with her ringed hand, "is proof enough of his understanding of what we call _society_. Now, who else would agree to marry a woman like me? After everything? We all know Lord Sheffield was only interested in me because of my breached honor."

Lady Hawley gaped at her, "Who would agree to marry a man like _him_ is the actual question, Lizzie. I still cannot believe how easily you fell for his tricks." She straightened, "However, seeing as it is our only option and since you seem to be so bloody fond of a man who has done nothing but humiliate you, I can do nothing more but agree to this sham of a marriage…If it happens."

Elizabeth swallowed the lump in her throat as her mother continued digging a deeper hole inside her chest.

"I have to give his mother credit though. I think she shall be a wonderful and very supportive mother-in-law, sweetheart. Now, let's move along."

Elizabeth remained behind as her mother continued walking down the long hall. She only followed when she realized how insecure she was to tread in the palace alone.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_Clank. Clank. Clank. Clank._

She continued clanking her knife against the plate. It didn't matter anyway. No one was listening or paying her any attention. The music was loud, the laughter too forced to be real and the discussions... Well, those were as arbitrary as ever. She couldn't blame them really. No one was going to discuss about the plague inside the King's court. The people were looking for entertainment, not another tragic story about loss, death and filth.

The victory against the Dutch had taken place a few months ago, but it was still the only thing discussed at Court. People tended to forget the great defeat at Bergen Harbor a little too easily. Of course. Naval offices and soldiers died for the sake of their country, but the King and his noblemen were the ones who took all the credit. Victories are for King's and defeats for soldiers. Of course.

"Miss Malet." A voice spoke her name and she stopped what she was doing. Looking up, she tried to hide her embarrassment at having been caught brooding away, and forced a small smile upon her lips.

"Countess." She acknowledged the woman who nodded her head politely in return.

"I feel most satisfied that you are well. I also feel the need to apologize."

The Countess was accordingly seated next to her, on her left, while her mother was seated to her right.

"Apologize?" Elizabeth straightened in her chair, trying not to cower under the woman's intense, calculating gaze.

"Indeed. I had written that my son would be here. Unfortunately for me he is as changing as the weather and I cannot fathom where he can be hiding most of the times."

Elizabeth fought the urge to inform her that she probably knew where her son was and smiled instead.

"You are very kind. The King's company is more than sufficient-…"

"My son is very tired." The Countess cut her off and she cleared her throat as she folded her hands upon her lap and tried to listen.

"I imagine you've heard about the unsavory defeat of August."

"Indeed, madam. I heard. I was most distressed, but I think we must thank God that the Earl is safe and sound."

The Countess took a sharp intake of breath, "Indeed." she muttered, "Indeed. However, I cannot say how much it has affected him."

Elizabeth's breath hitched, "Sir Edward died there, am I right?"

"Indeed, you are, Miss Malet. But my son is more affected by the way it all happened. He even added spiritual nonsense to the concoction of rumors." The Countess shook her head before she turned and fixed Elizabeth with a hard stare, "I do believe he is wandering the gardens if you'd care to know."

The words were plain and clear. It was not a suggestion. It was a command she had to follow. She had to wonder what made the Countess believe that she could be of any help to her son.

_It would be comfort to you if you were to see him. Go. _

Politely excusing herself, she pushed back her chair and with a tiny nod to the Earl's mother, she informed her mother of her desire to take some fresh air.

"I won't be long."

"But Lizzie, Lord Dorset's son wanted to dance with you-…"

"Mother. I said, I won't be long." She walked away, making her way through the dancing couples and jolly courtesans.

The Countess' eyes followed her with the exact same precision of a hound dog studying its prey.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

It didn't take her that long to locate her target. He was sitting on the ground like a small boy. Brown curls fanning his face, dark breeches, white shirt and a long dark red overcoat were completing his attire. He wore no wig and he seemed oblivious of the world. She knew the reason why. He was holding onto a goblet of wine and it was currently empty. Next to him, brushing against his thigh was a long bottle of wine.

What really alerted her of his presence was the blur of skirts that passed by her on her way towards that particular side of the maze. The courtesan seemed furious and her clothes were as tidy as ever if not a little too tempting.

Elizabeth gazed after the woman who passed by her while muttering in a way that sounded suspiciously like an actual growl. She had the urge to turn around and go. He seemed content enough in the company of strangers to seek her out.

She should leave him as he were; in his very obvious drunken misery, but she didn't.

_Don't be a hypocrite_. Her inner voice was loud and sharp and she wanted to ignore it. She wanted to lash out at him. Curse at him despite her manners. She wanted to scream that he was not the only one who has suffered loss in the last few months, but again she remained silent. She didn't want to remain silent and she didn't want to comfort a man who had given her only a few signs of affection, but…

_Always the but._

Closed eyes opened and the liquid brown stare of the Earl found her own wet eyes. At first a small smirk, a barely visible one, grazed his features. She didn't know what to make of that particular smirk. Was it a condescending one? A mocking manifestation of her foolishness? A sign of joy? Or maybe a sign of sheer agitation. His smirks were never meant to be mistaken as kindness or warmth.

The smirk disappeared and a colossal sigh escaped his moist lips, his eyes fluttering closed once again, shutting her out and leaving her cold.

"Go away, Elizabeth." The words were not slurred. On the contrary. He seemed rather lucid. The acerbic tone in his words caused her to shudder. Her muscles clenched and she was very tempted to follow his command, because that's what it was; a command.

Her feet moved on their own accord and upon hearing the sound his eyes snapped back open. A scowl twisted his features into an angry mask of superiority.

"Obeying my commands already? How…unsavory." His eyes pinned her to the ground. So did his next words, "Has my mother turned you into her lapdog already? Was she the one who let you loose behind me? I swear she looks exactly like that hound your father had to shoot." His head lolled to the side, his cheek coming to rest right upon his left shoulder, but he never removed his eyes from her face.

She didn't know how to respond. She never had to endure such a behavior from his part before. Sure, he had always been proud and arrogant. He had always been as tempting as sin itself, but he had never been cruel to her.

"Worry is easily mistaken as hovering, my Lord. That much is understood. I won't ask the reason behind the tone in your voice. I am not interested to endure your wrongly directed wrath. What I was interested to know is that you're not missing any limbs. Now I am sure you're more than capable to walk on your own and my task is done. I assure you, I have no interest in becoming anyone's lapdog." She took a step back, but she couldn't leave before she added something else, "I also noticed that you have both hands intact. How odd. I had thought that you missed them both. I am glad I was proven wrong. I would also like to thank you for the medicine you provided us with…I see no reason why you felt you had to do it, but you have my gratitude." She turned on her heel, ready to flee, but a goblet smashing right next to her feet brought her to a sudden halt.

She gasped and stumbled backwards before she whirled around to face the suddenly enraged Earl.

"Damn you straight to hell!" he hissed and she flinched at his verbal attack, "I was thinking about you all the time when I was on that Godforsaken ship! And what do I receive in return? Hmm? Not even _one_ single word. Nothing. You lied." She watched as his fingers curled around the neck of the bottle by his thigh and she swallowed hard.

"You're the one who's lying, my Lord. I have sent letters. More than I bear to count. Do not accuse me of deception when you're the master of it."

Rochester narrowed his eyes, his expression lost, confused and furious at the same time.

"Then you didn't send them properly, for I received none."

"Another lie. I did send them. Obviously we have both been deceived." Her fists curled by her sides.

"One thing I can be proud of is my ability to enforce the truth no matter the cost. You will not find lies here, Elizabeth."

"Likewise." She forced through gritted teeth and they stared at each other before he leaned back, bringing the bottle to his lips as he did so. His eyes studied her form from over the bottle and when he lowered the wine he smirked.

"You could just as well be seeing my ghost, you know." His words were a small whisper.

"Beg pardon?" she frowned and he gritted his teeth.

"I said that you might just as well be seeing my ghost!" he hissed, his eyes spitting fire.

"You're not dead, my Lord." She forced her voice to be gentle. She feared the insane glimmer swimming in his dark eyes.

Rochester shook his head, "No, no. I ought to be." He pursed his lips and gritted his teeth as if fighting the urge to vomit.

Elizabeth's anger went away and she started approaching him.

"God kept you safe, my Lord." She whispered as she brought herself down to her knees next to him.

"Do not talk to me about God." he hissed as he looked at her sideways, "God broke his promise."

"No, my Lord. God didn't break his promise. God kept his promise to me."

He looked up at her and snorted, "You're such a fool, my darling." He drawled and she frowned, "God chose to keep alive the one person who was most excited about death." He smirked, "But then again, I never was such an admirer of life."

"That is a lie." She shook her head, "You are one of the liveliest people I've ever met."

"Why yes, Elizabeth. I drink, I write, I gallivant with the King's Fleet and I shag more wenches than my prick can take. I am indeed a lively fellow." His lips curled in derision before he raised the bottle to his lips again.

Elizabeth was not impressed by his crude speech, "And yet you can get away with most things. Pray to God you're not a woman, my Lord. We're allowed such little freedom and most of the times we are humiliated because of that." She pulled back, ready to stand up, but his hand curled around her skirts. With a strong tug, she was next to him again.

"Can I get away with hurting you?" he murmured and for a moment she stopped breathing.

"It depends." The reply slipped out of her mouth without her consent and he abandoned the bottle to lean closer to her.

"The war with the Dutch is not over just yet. I might be ordered back." The words were quietly spoken, "Thus, I cannot arrange our marriage just yet."

Elizabeth paused, her mouth going dry, "It doesn't matter."

"It does to me." His hand slipped beneath her dress and trailed a path up her knee to her thigh. She clenched her legs in order to stop his wandering fingers from climbing too high.

"Who says I am going to say yes? My Lord." She added and his smirk was one of arrogance.

"Oh, my dearest Lizzie." His tongue flicked her jaw before he pressed a kiss there. She shuddered and her hand reached up to squeeze his shoulder.

"Don't you know? I have offended your honor. Who else is going to have you now?" he grinned against her jaw and she pulled slightly back.

"Lord Sheffield seems interested enough."

He cocked an eyebrow before he scowled, "Don't talk to me about that frigid codpiece."

She actually laughed, "Codpiece?"

"Indeed. He wouldn't be one if he actually had a pair." Rochester wrinkled his nose when she laughed even more, "I am glad you find my disdain entertaining, my love. Now, tell me something."

She stopped laughing when he managed to pry her thighs apart and used his palm to guide his hand upwards. She gasped.

"Have you missed me?" he breathed against her lips before he gently touched her lower lip with his mouth.

The taste of wine immediately assaulted her senses and she tried to move back from his questing fingers.

"My Lord." His mouth covered hers fully and she groaned when she was pushed right onto the moist grass of the palace gardens. She shuddered as the humidity started soaking her bodice, but she allowed to be mounted by his lithe form.

A hoarse grunt escaped his throat and she swallowed it as his hands came to rest on either side of her head. He supported himself up with his palms as he leaned further into the kiss. His nose bumped sharply with hers as he changed the angle of their lip lock and his fingers curled around strands of wet grass as her legs parted enough for him to settle in between them.

"I saw the courtesan leaving when I arrived." The words were murmured into his ear as his mouth teased her earlobe. She expected him to ignore her words or even mock her, but she did not expect to be laughed at with such delight.

"Fanny?" he breathed as he let his elbows handle most of his weight as he loomed above her, 'Fanny's an old friend. She was recently diagnosed with smallpox. Excuse me if I was kind enough to decline the offer of her skillful attentions."

Elizabeth sputtered and coughed beneath him to hide her shock and when his hips proceeded to grind hard against her she squeezed her eyes shut.

"I am expected back soon." She gasped as his tongue found her pulse spot. He didn't reply and continued his teasing by sucking her short earring into his mouth, gently tugging on it.

"I have the perfect solution to your problem, Lizzie." He murmured as he released her earring and travelled south. He moved one hand and slipped it between their bodies. Her skirt was bunched up around her thighs in no time and without disturbing her undergarments he moved his fingers to his own clothing. The flap of his breeches scratched her inner thigh as he freed himself and she gasped underneath him.

"You'll say you were lost." He murmured as he pressed himself against her so she could feel him hot and hard against her even through her undergarments, "And I'll gladly support that little white lie by claiming that I found you." His lips found hers and her hands clutched at his biceps as he started rolling his hips methodically against hers.

"We shall be seen." She gasped as his hand moved to curl around the base of her throat, "John-…"

"_Let_ us be seen." The buttons of his overcoat were digging into the tender skin of her collarbone as he held her slender neck and she could feel herself flushing with color as his practiced hips picked up their rhythm. When his mouth came crashing down against hers, teeth clashed and chins bumped, but she didn't feel any pain. For once she stopped thinking and simply felt.

When they returned to the Great Hall together no one said a single word, but everyone knew it. The young heiress was surely, willingly and _gladly_ doomed in the hands of the Earl of Rochester.

Lady Hawley could only stare with confusion at the healthy color on her daughter's cheeks. No one noticed the small blade of grass that was buried deeply into Miss Malet's complicated bun.

**End of chapter 10**

**Author's note: Ahem, still here? Great! Thank you for reading!**

**A little info: Rochester had joined the Fleet in July 6 and was present in the Battle of ****Vågen (August 1665). The battle was between the Dutch and the English; English warships versus Dutch merchant and treasure fleet. The English lost even though they were more and several fleet members died or ended up injured. In that particular battle, Rochester, Edward Montagu and George Windham had a premonition of their deaths. Edward and George were deadly injured by the same cannonball while Rochester survived. Since that day Wilmot was plagued by nightmares and guilt because he was certain that he was supposed to be dead as well. That is not shown in the movie, but it is shown in the deleted scenes. I think he was friends with both men. Anyway, yeah. Just so you know that I am not making certain things up.**

**Ahem, comments are needed and appreciated!**

**Until next time!**

**Xxx Lina :D**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: Welcome! I want to thank: MissMisc3, Bryan Cranston, Katharine, xBelekinax, XantheXV, Makrciana, TinkerbellxO, deppfan11 and dionne dance. Thank you all for the support.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Libertine.**

* * *

**Chapter 11**

'_**Love meant jumping off a cliff and trusting that a certain person would be there to catch you at the bottom.'**_

_**~Jodi Picoult, Second Glance**_

_A few months later…_

Elizabeth hadn't expected her mother's chamber to be so dark and stifling when she stepped inside, dressed in her cloak and gloves and ready to go. She paused, her elation deflating at the sight of her mother still in bed, huddled under her covers like a round ball of misery.

"Mother?" she called softly and a muffled groan was her only response. Slipping her gloves into the pocket of her cloak, she stepped further into the room.

"What ever is the matter?" she asked as she came to stand next to her mother's bedside. Leaning down, she gently touched the woman's arm.

Lady Hawley flinched and turned onto her back, "Heavens, child! Do not touch me. It might be contagious." Her mother's eyes appeared from underneath the covers and Elizabeth felt her heart dropping to her stomach.

"What is wrong? Are you sick?"

"It' just a cold…I think. Nevertheless, you mustn't be too close."

"We need to call a physician." Elizabeth started cautiously, dread already filling her being at the realization that their trip would have to be postponed.

"He was already here. He left half an hour ago. Do not fret. A simple running nose and a sore throat, but…" Lady Hawley sighed, "Lizzie, I cannot come with you."

Elizabeth tried not to show her disappointment, "It's alright. I shall write a letter and cancel the visit-…"

"No. No, no, no." Her mother sat up, a handkerchief against her mouth and nose, "You mustn't cancel the trip to Oxfordshire. Don't be silly, Lizzie."

Elizabeth blinked, confusion swimming in her light eyes, "I am sorry? You suggest that I go to Adderbury alone?" she whispered and Lady Hawley nodded her head.

"But…"

"Take Charlotte with you since we planned to stay the entire weekend." Lady Hawley rang the little bell just by her bedside table and Elizabeth tensed up.

"I couldn't possibly go alone…Without a chaperon." The main problem of the matter was that she didn't want to face the Countess on her own.

_Oh God…_

"Don't be ridiculous, Lizzie. What better chaperon that his lordship's mother? Besides, didn't she write to tell us that he'd be in London?"

Elizabeth lowered her eyes. That was true. Aside from his passionate letters and casual tokens he sent her way, she hadn't seen him for weeks…months…But it felt like years.

"Since his new position as member of the King's bedchamber he hasn't been in his estate much…I wonder why…" Lady Hawley's lip curled and Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly.

"Mother, please. You're speaking as if you do not know how our dear society works." She muttered as she collapsed in a chair nearby.

"Of course, I do, Lizzie. It's easy for him to be with his friend, the King. More wine and courtesans free of charge."

"Mother…"

"I know, I know. Sometimes, I wonder if you're simply blind or-…"

"Mother, please!" Elizabeth fixed her mother with a severe glare, "No need to remind me matters I already know."

"He's been worse after his return they say…More money to spend now."

Her mother continued as if she had not heard her. Sighing, she gently rubbed her temples. She was saved by the maid's approach.

"You called, madam?" Charlotte bowed, her eyes immediately finding Elizabeth's distressed face.

"Yes, make haste and gather a few clothes. You shall be joining my daughter to her visit in Adderbury." Lady Hawley gently blew her nose while Charlotte's eyes widened.

"Is it true?" The maid was ecstatic and Elizabeth couldn't help but smile softly at her enthusiasm.

"Of course, silly creature! Make haste! Now." Lady Hawley rolled her eyes as the maid squealed and disappeared from the chamber in a blur of skirts and aprons.

"What will father say?"

Her mother sighed, "Your father isn't even bothering to come home, Lizzie. I no longer care what he says. I've been managing your betrothal on my own and he will do well to remember it."

Elizabeth swallowed thickly, "It is only because he doesn't approve."

"Nevertheless, he ought to be helpful in arranging the engagement party. Don't you think?"

"I didn't know there was going to be an engagement party…" Elizabeth's eyes grew wide, "The Countess approves?"

"Of course! It was the King's idea." Lady Hawley smiled widely, but Elizabeth felt suddenly sick. Everything seemed to be the King's idea…Everything.

"I see…" Standing up, Elizabeth smoothed down her skirts and looked at her mother, "I will try not to linger so you won't be alone."

"Nonsense." Lady Hawley sat forward, "You must stay and make her house a living hell for all her son put us through! Indulge in everything she offers and make sure to study the estate closely. You need to tell me everything-…"

"I beg your pardon, mother." Elizabeth cut her off, appalled by her mother's suggestion, "You must be forgetting something."

Lady Hawley scowled, "What is that?"

Elizabeth took a step closer, "That I have been there before. For nearly two days. Alone. With the Earl."

Lady Hawley inhaled sharply, "You must be ashamed of mentioning that abomination of an incident! My poor head is already ready to explode…Off with you before you make me more ill." She proceeded to hide under the covers again and Elizabeth suddenly felt elated that she'd be alone.

The Countess did not scare her as much as her mother's rude disposition. Stepping out of the chamber felt exquisite. Taking a deep breath, she proceeded down the hall with rapid footsteps. She shook her head, trying to forget how much her family's response was affecting her and when she stepped into the parlor she nearly collided with an enthusiastic Charlotte.

"Ow!" Elizabeth held her nose as Charlotte nearly dislocated it with her elbow and the maid yelped.

"Terribly sorry, miss." Charlotte exclaimed and Elizabeth shook her head.

"It's alright."

"I am ready! Two sets of aprons will do, madam? Do I look shabby for his Lordship's manor-…"

"Charlotte, you are fine. Let's go." She gently patted Charlotte's arm and lifted the hood of her cloak as they made their way out of the house. The carriage was ready and the driver was waiting for them.

Charlotte quickly put her small chest to the back of the coach and then slipped inside the cabin after Elizabeth, trying to hide her joy.

Elizabeth laughed and patted the girl's hand before she turned her head to fix her eyes outside of the carriage's leather slit.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

"You've arrived earlier than I expected. Dinner is not ready just yet." The Earl's mother looked…odd. She seemed uncomfortable and her sour expression was more prominent than it usually was.

Elizabeth faltered by the door of the manor. Charlotte nearly collided with her back and released an undignified groan that made the Countess look at her severely.

"The maid can pass through the backdoor, Elizabeth. She will be able to find the servants' quarters far more easily that way." Lady Anne turned her back and headed inside, her back stiff and straight as a plank of wood.

Elizabeth tried not to give much thought to the rude words and simply nodded as Charlotte was guided away by a manservant.

Ignoring the stale smell of Adderbury, she stepped inside as the maid closed the door shut behind her. Inhaling sharply, she frowned. The manor smelled differently now that the Countess was inside and the light atmosphere she remembered from her time there was suddenly vanished. The woman surely dominated the large house with her ominous presence.

Swallowing thickly, she followed the Earl's mother to the drawing room. The fire was cackling and there was warmth, but what really troubled her was the way the Countess closed the door shut.

Waving a hand towards the armchairs by the fire, Lady Anne took a seat first. Elizabeth followed her example.

"I apologize if my earlier than expected arrival has been troublesome. There was no rain today and the roads were far easier to pass." She forced a small smile and Lady Anne simply nodded her head, her expression cool and reserved.

What was the matter?

"I trust your family is well, Elizabeth." Lady Anne folded her hands upon her lap, "I see your mother did not decide to join us…"

Elizabeth flushed a bit and cleared her throat, "My mother is sick. Bedridden by a cold. She is sending her regards and hopes that you can forgive her."

Lady Anne cocked a single dark eyebrow, "It doesn't matter, child. To be honest, I am glad you've come alone. That way we can get to discuss of your future responsibilities without any interruptions…I hope."

Elizabeth's stomach twisted into tight knots. "Of course. Thank you for inviting me to stay the entire weekend. Your estate is…lovely."

"Indeed it is. By my care only. If it were up to my son, the place would have been in shambles."

Elizabeth shifted nervously in her seat, "How is the Earl?" she asked softly and Lady Anne's lips formed a thin line.

"He is well."

"I trust that his new responsibilities are keeping him very busy…"

"Indeed. Although, he is prone to sudden appearances that happen during the course of important matters."

Elizabeth frowned a bit, "Is he here?"

The Countess abruptly stood up, "I do believe it is time for me to show you to your room. I suspect you do not need a proper tour, do you? After all, this is not your first time in this house."

Lady Anne's tone was judgmental, Elizabeth could sense it. The older woman's expression was also rather sour, her voice and eyes presenting nothing but curtness. Elizabeth suddenly felt like a pariah. As she nodded her head and stood up, she wondered if the Earl's mother truly wanted her as her daughter-in-law. Of course she did, otherwise she wouldn't have agreed, but…

Elizabeth's skin flushed. Her two thousand pounds a year were too tempting after all; if not for John, then for his mother.

She kept her mouth shut as they climbed a flight of stairs. She paused when she entered the long corridor. She recalled being there before and a fierce flush tainted her cheeks with color. She resumed her walking when Lady Anne turned to look at her.

"This is your bedroom." A heavy oak door was pushed open and she realized that the chamber was right next to the large washroom she had used once.

"Thank you."

"The decoration is a bit old fashioned, but since this will be your private room after your marriage with my son, I insist that you remodel it in any way that you want. The room is yours as from today."

Elizabeth was equally stunned and mortified. Whatever did those words mean? They probably meant that she and John would sleep in separate bedchambers. Choosing to forget about that, she ducked her head and slipped inside the large room. It was beautiful, but it lacked the Earl's presence. His chamber had been so…personal. This room was vacant despite its grandness.

"Thank you." She inclined her head politely.

"I see your belongings for the weekend are here. Feel free to freshen up. Dinner is served in an hour. Then we can enjoy our dinner."

Lady Anne moved to shut the door, "I shall send for your maid immediately."

The door closed with a heavy click and Elizabeth's knees buckled. She fell into a heap of limbs upon the settee by the large bed. Feeling out of breath, she reached up and undid the bow that held her cloak together. It fell off her shoulders and landed around her with a soft swoosh. She kicked her shoes away and let her hands rest on the edge of the settee by her thighs. She felt uncomfortable and terribly embarrassed for some reason. She knew that the Earl's mother wouldn't make her feel at ease or even entirely welcome, but this…She couldn't properly hold a conversation without feeling inadequate or foolish. She felt too young and naïve and she probably was no matter how strongly she believed that she was more mature than other women her age.

Stifling a groan, she fell back into the settee with a sigh of resignation. Her eyes, glassy and misty, settled on the canopy and she bit her lip, already regretting coming into the wolf's nest alone.

Charlotte found her like that when she entered the chamber, but said nothing.

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

_Later that night…_

She tossed and turned upon the bed. She had to admit, the Countess was able to prepare and order an adequate meal. The woman had even tried to make light conversation. Elizabeth wasn't sure why. Maybe her long face and dull eyes had betrayed her nervousness at being evaluated like a mare for breeding. That was exactly how she had felt under Lady Anne's scrutiny. She wanted to leave and go back home. She wanted to stop feeling like she did. She wanted _him_ here and not his mother. She wanted to see _him_.

Sighing and rolling onto her side, she proceeded to hug one of the many pillows. Pulling it close to her chest, she pushed the covers away and allowed the wind from the open window to cool her calves. Pressing her cheek against the pillow, she blinked drowsily and closed her eyes only to open them a moment later. The sounds of a carriage and the distinctive noise of horses' hooves broke through her newly found grogginess. Curiously, she abandoned the pillow and sat up, her hair falling forward in the process.

A voice and then a few harsh whispers caused her eyes to widen and she had to get out of bed. Moving cautiously, she tiptoed to the window. Her room was dark and so no one would see her as she leaned forward to take a peek.

Curiosity was sated a moment later and it evaporated in a heartbeat when she saw who exited the carriage. Elizabeth took a sharp intake of breath as the Earl appeared in front of the manor's front door. Elizabeth watched with wide eyes as he smirked to himself and took a greedy sip from an almost empty bottle. The clank of his walking stick as it hit the entrance's floor echoed in her ears and she took a step back. That is why Lady Anne had been so stiff and uncomfortable. She was suspicious that her son would appear while she was there. That would ruin her plan to educate her future daughter-in-law in the ways of the Wilmot family.

Pushing away from the window ledge, she ran a hand through her hair. Did he know she was in his house? Did he not? She suspected that it was probably the latter and suddenly she felt as if she had betrayed him. His mother had probably hidden her arrival because she suspected that her son would want to be there. That would ruin her plans.

Feeling disgruntled, she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear and slowly walked over to the closed door. She pushed her ear against it and listened for any sounds. She heard footsteps and she held her breath as they got closer. She knew his chamber was further down the hall, but still. What would stop him from entering the wrong room? His footsteps stopped exactly outside of her door and her eyes widened when there was a sudden clank.

She watched, frozen in horror as the doorknob started to move.

In a flash of movement she came face to face with him and all air left her body at once.

At first, he didn't notice her in the dark, but the light coming from the hall must have alerted him of someone's presence. Before she knew what hit her, she found the tip of his rapier against her pale throat, just above her shoulder.

Gasping, she yelped and tried to jump backwards, but his hand, slightly clammy in his intoxicated state, curled around her wrist and halted any attempts she had for an escape.

His entire body seemed to still as soon as his fingers touched her thin hand and she could see that his eyes narrowed in the darkness.

"It is only me, my Lord." She whispered and he clicked his tongue before he reached back with his foot. Almost blindly, he pushed the door fully open and the light fell on her face, bright and obnoxious. Wincing, she held a hand up and the shoulder of her nightdress dropped a little, exposing the pale skin of her upper arm.

The Earl's eyes roamed her form and then he smirked. He loosened his hold a little bit and stepped closer.

"Is this an illusion?…It surely must be." He murmured. Suddenly the smirk left his face only to be replaced by a snarl, "What are you doing here?" he hissed as he kept the blade against her neck.

Elizabeth sputtered for a response, but she couldn't form a coherent sentence. Finally, she gave up and simply narrowed her eyes before she pulled her hand free from his touch.

"Thank you for your hospitality." She spat and he growled, before he slammed the door shut. He blocked her sideways escape with his rapier again and she swallowed hard at the animosity he was displaying. Was it so unfortunate to see her after so long?

"Answer the question, Elizabeth."

She eyed the blade against her neck and gritted her teeth, "Like that I won't-…"

"Did I say you have a choice?" he murmured and then, "Besides, I think it's the only way to control you."

She froze, "I beg your pardon?"

"Yes, indeed." He brushed the tip of the blade up her neck to her earlobe, "It will be the only way to control your most certain urge to escape from our wedlock." His eyes found hers, "When you'll have enough of me, you'll leave. Or…not." He dug the blade deeper and she was suddenly very nervous. She never knew what to expect from this man. He was…a mystery.

"I-…"

"You won't." he started chuckling and made a catch for her hand again. When he captured her fingers, he snorted.

"You'll feel pity and you won't. For how long can love withstand uncouthness and selfishness? Hmm? Even now." He pulled her closer, "Even now you have doubts. You'd flee for an escape to my mother if I let your hand free, wouldn't you? Am I too much trouble, Lizzie?" he breathed and she gulped as he came dangerously close to her face.

"No." she slowly shook her head, "But it is obvious that seeing me is not first in your list of priorities. Allow me to feel just a little…unwelcome. My Lord." She added and in a flash he dropped the blade to the floor.

"Now you're speaking foolishness."

"Am I?"

"Yes." He hissed

"Then I am sorry for sullying your wittiness with my silly presence." She narrowed her eyes in response and he reared back as if struck.

"Are you trying to wound me?"

"Are you?" she fired back heatedly.

'No…I am merely curious of the reason why no one informed me of your presence in Adderbury."

She frowned, "I…I was under the impression that your mother-…"

She was released quickly and she nearly stumbled.

"Damn you _and_ her! Does it appear like I knew you'd be here?" His eyes flashed and she suddenly felt unwanted again.

"I am sorry." she mumbled, "I can't leave till morning, but-…

She was seized and pushed against a solid chest. His hair tickled her cheeks as he leaned down and kissed her. His breath was hot against her mouth and his lips moist and warm as they engulfed hers. His tongue didn't waste time; it parted her lips at the same time his hand parted her legs. She gasped and he smirked against her mouth, his fingers pushing and pressing against her clothed core with impatience while the velvet of his tongue teased hers.

Placing a hand against his chest, she pushed him back and he retaliated fast. His fingers threaded into her loose curls and he fisted several strands in his hand. He sneered when she winced, but didn't stop. He tugged at her hair until she had to crane her neck backwards in order for the position not to be painful.

Wide eyed and gasping, she stood there immobile as he pulled her to him.

"You really shouldn't have let the door unlocked." He pulled her head to the side so she could look at the door, "See? There's a key in that lock for a purpose." he hissed as his mouth trailed up her cheek, "I can be a proper gentleman when I am sober…to _you_, but when I am not." He snorted and pushed her roughly towards the bed. He released her and she fell on the mattress with a wince.

She watched with wide eyes, still fogged by the darkness, as he shrugged out of his coat and unbuttoned his waistcoat with dexterous fingers. He didn't seem drunk to her…Looking up into his eyes, she changed her mind. His eyes were glimmering in the dark, a hunger burning in them as he threw the opulent garment on the floor and approached the bed. His knees caused the mattress to dip and she watched as he slid up towards her, his hair falling forward as he leaned down.

"What would my mother say if she knew you here with me?" he murmured and then smirked cruelly, "Oh, she'd probably loathe your wanton stance right now…Look at you, not even a peep of objection." he breathed, his eyes widening, "Have you missed me, my love? Hmm? Is that the reason behind your compliance to my mother's training? Hmm? Did she tell you that you need to be with child before the year is out? Hmm? I can make her wish happen before the marriage…What do you think?" he leaned closer, "Cat ate your tongue, lovely?"

She pressed her hand against his stomach to stop his descent, "You do not scare me. You won't do anything." She whispered and for a moment his expression froze on his face like a mask, like an alien thing.

"Fancy that…Fancy _you_ saying that when all I want to do is break the rules of this house." He slapped her hand away from his stomach and caught it in his, pushing it roughly against the mattress, "I've thought of being inside you." He groaned and leaned down to kiss her.

Elizabeth's nostrils flared at his crude words and in a moment of impulse, she twined her legs around his slim hips and surged upwards. Their teeth clashed as she pushed against his chest and when she managed to roll his lithe form over, he moaned and moved to grab her hips. But she had no mind to continue his overbearing seduction. Tearing her lips from his, she sat back on his stomach, until she was sitting on his lap. His fingers flexed on her hips and he slowly opened his eyes, smirking lazily up at her.

"Are you sure? It will hurt more this way." He mocked and she felt cheap sitting there with him. _He_ made her feel cheap.

Rolling off of him, she collapsed on the bed next to him, eyes wide and lips pursed in disappointment.

"Why is it that you have to hurt me every time you see me?" she whispered and she felt him stiffening up next to her, "I assure you, I find it neither charming nor riveting, I find it disgusting and low that you can insult my intelligence by your undecided nature. If you are not interested in me, why do you continue this façade?" The words tumbled out of her mouth freely, not caring of the consequences. She was tired of feeling ignored and inadequate; whether it was by his mother or by him, she did not care.

"You know that I find it difficult to conform." His response made her falter.

"I am not asking you to."

"Others do."

"I am not like others."

"I do not like it when I am met with ultimatums. Especially when those ultimatums come from my beloved mother."

Elizabeth didn't look at him. She had made him talk. She was satisfied no matter the outcome.

"I do not control how your mother treats you, or what she says to you." She murmured softly.

"Indeed."

"Then why are you angry?"

A sigh. Then fingers on her wrist, trailing down her palm and below.

"Lizzie."

"You cannot call me that. Not yet." She removed her hand from his, but he did not give up. His fingers trailed down her hip to her leg before they stopped to grip her thigh.

"Lizzie." He repeated and she gritted her teeth.

"My Lord…"

"_My_ Lizzie." His clever fingers curled around her thigh, firm against her flesh even through the fabric covering her.

"John." Her voice held a warning, but he rolled onto his side and resumed touching her leg with his other hand.

"Lizzie." He smirked as he studied her irritated face and then leaned closer. His lips found her temple and her heart constricted inside her chest, forming a tight little knot of emotions she had no wish to feel for this man.

"It's your fault. Everything." he murmured, "Mine too, because I can't seem to let you go. I've spent months away from you, being away, and yet no matter how hard I ignored your letters, no matter how long it took me to open them, in the end I always ran to them like a child on Christmas. My replies turned out more passionate because of the wait in between." His thumbs touched her inner thigh, "Did you like them?" His teeth found her earlobe and she squirmed next to him.

"It doesn't matter."

He pulled back, licking his lips as he remained silent. His hand moved, sliding under the fabric of her nightdress until he was touching bare warm flesh.

"I am glad you're here." he said at last, "The manor smelled like you when I entered. Lemons and lavender…My mother doesn't smell like that. She never did. Even when I was a child. I wasn't coddled by her, Lizzie. And now you…"

She turned to look at him. He was smirking.

"Now I _have, _I_ need, _to take advantage of you." He leaned forward slowly, testing the waters and she let him kiss her for a moment, she allowed him to part her legs so he could slide his sinful fingertips up her inner thigh, she let him part her lips with his tongue.

He gasped into the kiss when his thumb found her warm and moist and he pulled back to look into her eyes.

Her eyes opened and she tried to ignore his touch long enough to speak.

"Is that all you wish? To take advantage?" she murmured and his face grew serious for a flash before he dived for her legs, his hair obscuring his expression as he pushed the skirt of her nightdress away and slid down her body.

"What do _you_ wish?" he breathed as he made quick work of her undergarments and she held her breath.

Swallowing back, she couldn't stop the idiotic words from leaving her mouth.

"I want you to love me."

His hands paused on her knees. Their gazes locked for a fleeting, yet at the same time long moment. She was momentarily staggered by what she saw in his eyes and every muscle in her body melted right into mattress underneath her. Her limbs uncoiled and her nerve endings were suddenly too susceptible to his masterful touch.

Blinking languidly, he turned his head and delivered a kiss to her inner thigh, slowly trailing lips and tongue upwards until her breath hitched and her thighs started quivering. Shocked, nervous and lost, she watched as his mouth drew closer and closer to his target and at first she resisted the action, moving her hips away, bucking under him. His hand fell heavy and warm on her belly and her muscles clenched under its weight.

"Shhh." The murmur was low and husky and she closed her eyes, her hand reaching for purchase on a pillow. Grasping it tightly, she drew it close as his mouth descended upon her, feasting on her and making her head spin. Her skin felt clammy and hot and every morsel of her being was conscious of his presence.

She didn't know how or why, but her fingers found their way into his curly hair and stayed there until everything was over, until she had found the precipice and had fallen over it. Then, his own hand, the one he had touched her with down there, came and stroked her thigh like a master that was petting his startled horse into quietness. The fingers of his free hand untangled hers from his hair and he brought her palm to his lips, kissing it reverently before using it to cup his own cheek. Still caressing her leg, he slid up and came to lie next to her, his eyes soft and misty, his mouth curved upwards in satisfaction.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, he pulled her to him after turning her to her side. Molding his body against her back, his hardness pressing into her soft curves, he let one hand rest on her head, fingers playing with her locks, breath calm despite the rigidness of him behind her.

Elizabeth held her breath, waiting for something that would prove his selfishness, but nothing came. When the covers came up to her chin, she allowed her body to melt into him. The rising and falling of his chest behind her lulled her to sleep and the thought of anyone, and particularly his mother, finding them in such a precarious position was forgotten. For now.

**End of chapter 11**

**Author's note: Thank you for reading! Much needed development and bonding time…The wedding is coming closer and that's when things will start getting tough…**

**Comments, please? They feed the muse and keep a locked up Earl (he is in my closet) happy. So, you got any? Let me know what you think.**

***Info: Rochester, on March 21, 1666 was appointed Gentleman of the Bedchamber and he had to live with the King a lot…He was given a pension of 1,000 pounds per year and he had private quarters in Whitehall.***

**Until next time, lovelies.**

**Xxx Lina :D**


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